Forgotten Blood
by Swordmaiden007
Summary: When Soujirou delivers threatening haiku from a mysterious messenger, Aoshi is plagued with a forgotten love from his past that threatens to take control of him once more.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Mystery Calls

Misao smiled as she looked at the Kamiya dojo, impatient to walk through its doors. It had only been a month since they had last been to Tokyo, but it had seemed like a lifetime when she had been at Kyoto, where she had been nothing but bored.

But now she was back, and it wouldn't be long before everyone in the dojo knew it.

She sighed as she hoisted her satchel higher on her shoulder and turned to look Aoshi. He didn't meet her gaze as he helped Okina carry the few belongings they had brought with them.

He hadn't changed much since they had last left Tokyo. He was still the same silent, brooding man, often meditating at the temple. Everyday she would watch him, sitting motionless, his back straight, his eyes closed in concentration. Secretly, she wished that he would turn and just once catch her stare. But he never did.

"Hurry up, Gramps!" she called. "What's taking you so long?"

She turned back towards the dojo, tapping her fingers against her bundle impatiently. Then, with a huff, she stepped towards the dojo doors, deciding to go in without them.

"Misao."

She froze, her heart doing a leap inside of her as she heard Aoshi say her name. She knew her face was flushed as she turned to him.

"Listen," he had said softly as he took her wrist and pulled her away from the front gate, setting the bags down beside him. They both glanced at Okina who stood behind them, but he was busy practicing his new move he wanted to use on Kenshin.

"We don't need you stirring up any trouble. Not with them involved." Aoshi nodded towards the dojo. "Give the money to me and I'll take care of it."

Misao was taken aback. He had never spoken to her about what she did. Not like this.

And how had he known about the money? She was sure she had hidden it well.

"And if you want to hide something," he continued. "be sure to conceal it somewhere where your sewing can't be recognized." Something like amusement sparked in his blue eyes. But only for a moment.

All surprise was gone as it liquidized into indignation. With an angry jerk, Misao yanked her wrist from his grasp.

"What I do is none of your beeswax," she snapped, tossing her braid behind her shoulder, gripping her satchel harder. "And so what if I can't sew?" She blushed a little.

She had actually sewn the money on the underside of her travel sack, not really caring how sloppy and hastily made stitches were. Or that the material she used as a cover up was flower-printed cotton and not beige canvas.

"But if what you do does anything to bring trouble to the Battousai or his 'league', I suppose it could be called, then I have no choice but to make it my…beeswax." Aoshi stared down into her eyes, unblinking.

Misao looked down at the ground, berating herself inwardly. _Baka! How are you supposed to be leader of the Oniwabanshuu when you do things like this? And…how is Aoshi-sama ever going to look at you as an equal?_

Taking a deep breath, she looked up. "Go ahead and take the money. It shouldn't be hard to pluck out the stitches."

She smiled at him before turning to go through the gate of the Kamiya dojo.

"Come on, Gramps!" she called over her shoulder. "I can't wait to see to see Kenshin kick your butt!"

Kenshin looked up from mending his gi.

"Someone is here," he said.

Kaoru, who was still struggling to get thread through a needle, glanced at him.

"How do you know?"

"This one hears footsteps."

Frustrated, she threw down the needle and thread.

"You and your chi," she muttered as she went to the dojo door.

Kenshin smiled slightly as he bent over his sewing.

As soon as Kaoru's hand touched the latch, there was a sharp knock on the door. She looked at it in surprise, then turned to Kenshin.

"That's just not right," she declared before she slid open the door.

"Hello!" Misao shouted in her face as she shouldered her way into the dojo. "Hi, Himura! Nice to see you again!"

"It has been a while, Misao-dono," the redheaded rorouni said as he stood in greeting.

"Too long," said Okina as he stepped through the doorway. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Himura-san."

"And you, Okina-san," Kenshin replied, bowing slightly. "And you too, Aoshi."

Aoshi nodded his head as he too stepped into the dojo.

Kaoru looked uncomfortable as she looked between the group, clasping her hands in front of her, not knowing what to do next. She turned desperately to Kenshin, who caught her eye.

"Would you all like some tea?" he asked cheerfully as he led the way to the sitting room. "After such a long journey…"

"Tea would be great!" Misao said as she flopped onto one of the cushions. "I'm parched!"

"Yes please, Himura," Okina said, giving Misao a fierce look that she ignored.

Kaoru was quiet as she felt a twinge of apprehension when she saw Aoshi follow Kenshin down the hall to the kitchen, his face dark.

Kenshin said nothing as he boiled the tealeaves, waiting for Aoshi to speak. The former leader of the Oniwabbanshuu leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, his arms crossed, his eyes following his every move.

"It is strange to see the Battosai serving tea," he said finally.

Kenshin glanced up as he placed cups and saucers on a circular tray.

"This one finds pleasure in serving others."

"Even old enemies?"

Looking askance at him, Kenshin moved to the teapot over the fire, slowly stirring the tealeaves with a wooden spoon.

"This one has never considered you as an enemy, Aoshi."

"I have tried to kill you twice."

"Both those times are forgotten."

The two of them were silent for a moment as Kenshin poured the liquid into the small clay teapot on the tray, wisps of steam curling into the air.

"But you didn't come to discuss the past," he said as he straightened to look him in the eyes. "You would not come all this way to speak of meaningless things that cannot be changed."

Aoshi's mouth twitched as he regarded Kenshin. "You know me well."

Kaoru sat on the cushion on the floor and had opened her mouth to speak, when there was a loud bang from the door being shut in the front entryway.

"It's all your fault, Sanosuke!" came Yahiko's angry voice.

"My fault? How can it be my fault?" Sano yelled back.

"It's your fault I got laid off from my job, 'cause you never pay! How can they afford to keep me working if you're freeloading all the time?"

"I think you're upset just because you won't have an excuse to see Tsubame anymore."

"Shut up!"

The voices got louder until the two stood at the doorway of the sitting room and froze.

"Uh…hi, guys," Sano said, smiling broadly. "When did you get here?"

Yahiko said nothing as he glared at him.

"Okina-san and Misao just arrived," Kaoru said, giving him a hard look. "And we were just going to have tea-"

"Well, then," said Sano as he plopped down on a cushion beside her. "I guess I'll stay for a while."

Both Kaoru and Yahiko muttered the word at the same time.

"Moocher."

Aoshi reached inside of his coat and pulled out a piece of paper. Kenshin couldn't help but lift his brow in some surprise when he glimpsed the hidden kodachi sheath hanging at his hip.

Aoshi didn't seem to notice as he unfolded the thin white paper and handed it to him.

He spoke in a low voice. "I received this two days ago at the Aoiya."

Kenshin read the few lines.

_Forgotten blood waits_

_As autumn winds whisper:_

_Follow the unknown._

_-Misuteri_

"Misuteri…" he murmured.

"You have heard that name before?" Aoshi asked, stepping towards him.

Kenshin shook his head, handing him the paper. "It's not really a name…it is the character for 'mystery'. This one can't really say he has."

Aoshi stared at the paper. "I don't know who it is," he said in a quiet voice. "Though I wonder what they want me to do…and what will happen if I don't."

"You are concerned about other's welfare?" Kenshin looked knowingly towards the room where the group sat.

The other man's face only hardened as he looked at Kenshin, then back down at the haiku's three lines.

"Forgotten blood…but whose?"

"Hey, Himura, where's our tea?"

Kaoru winced at piercing quality of Misao's voice.

Okina looked reprovingly at her, but of course, Misao didn't notice.

"So…what brings you here to Tokyo, Okina-san?" Kaoru asked, casually stimulating conversation.

The old man stroked his gray mustache. "Nothing much really…we were all rather bored in Kyoto and I was invited to visit an old friend of mine here. And I just really wanted an excuse to get out of town."

"And of course I wasn't going to let him leave me behind!" Misao interrupted, jutting her thumb towards herself.

Sano rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he muttered.

"And when Aoshi made it known that he too wished to come, I couldn't say no. So we all came, though I am very sorry that I didn't send any warning of our arrival."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Kaoru said politely as Kenshin came in with a tray laden with a teapot and cups.

"I will be staying at an inn, though Misao expressed a wish to stay here…"

She didn't hear anymore of Okina's words as she watched the two men enter the room, a sickening flutter passing over her heart. Both of their faces were grim, but when Kenshin caught her troubled eyes, he grinned reassuringly. She feebly smiled back, but that didn't ease the sense of uneasiness that came over her. Whatever they had talked about in the kitchen, it was something serious that brought Shinomori Aoshi to Tokyo.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Forgotten Blood

Standing towards the setting sun, Aoshi stood in field, closing his eyes as the cool evening winds touched his face. His hands were at his sides, fingers flexed. He took deep breaths, focusing his mind and body, his senses becoming heightened in his concentration.

The fragrance of the yellow grass…the soft rustling of the wind through the tall dry reeds…the twilight breeze caressing his neck…

All was still.

Then a breath.

The kodachi sang, moving like swift birds in flight, as they twirled in his hands. He twisted them in his fingers, slashing through the air in swift movements, bringing them above his head, then back down at his sides.

He paused, smiling a little in spite of himself, gripping the familiar weight of the blades. It was an addiction, really. The feeling of power held in these sharpened points of metal.

He had nearly forgotten. Even in the one month he had spent focusing on meditation, he had fought the secret longing for them, remembering the strength and exhilaration of the Kaiten Kenbu.

And again he brandished the kodachi. He had abandoned his search for any inner peace now. The only inner peace was to be found with the blades in his hands.

He lifted kodachi up and stepped forward, bringing them into a quick slash upward. Then, pivoting on his right foot, he twirled around, bringing the force of the knives downward.

"I see you have not abandoned your blades."

He froze, the sharpened edge of a kodachi resting lightly on the neck of the young man who stood in front of him. The young man didn't move, only smiled.

In the dim light of the evening, Aoshi stared him, not moving, the blade still pressed against the young man's neck. His clothes were torn and dirty, as if they had been traveled in for many days. Black hair thickly covered his forehead and his face was smudged with dirt. But he smiled a familiar, careless smile.

"Soujirou." Aoshi's voice was low and dangerous.

"It is strange that the first time I met you, you killed four men with these same kodachi," said Soujirou, the smile never leaving his face. "Are you now going to kill me? I had heard that you also had given up your swords."

Aoshi said nothing as he lifted the kodachi blade and placed both them in the sheath at his side.

"What have you come for?" He cast his eyes about him, alert for any movements in the field, his hands ready to again draw the blades.

Soujirou noticed his suspicion.

"I have come alone," he said. "and without a sword, as you can see." He lifted his arms in a shrug. "Though I would understand your distrust and you are right to be on your guard. You know that you have been followed since you left Kyoto."

Again, Aoshi was silent, letting his fingers slowly curl around the kodachi's sheath.

"Speak your purpose." He lowered his chin, his dark blue eyes smoldering from under the dark hair that hung over his forehead. "Though I may have forgotten my blades for some time, I have not forgotten how to kill."

Though the smile never ceased to leave his face, Soujirou's eyes became serious as he nodded and reached into his gi, pulling out a thin piece of white paper.

"Read this and follow its directions," he said, offering it to Aoshi. "And know that to hesitate is only bringing destruction closer."

Aoshi didn't take the folded paper, only gazed at Soujirou.

"And is it you who brings this threat?"

"No." Soujirou shook his head. "I work for another who sends it."

"You are again a servant of a killer?"

The young man's eyes burned when he heard the mocking lilt in Aoshi's voice.

"Do not forget that you too abandoned Shishio-sama in his last hour," he said, the smile gone from his face. "I have never forgiven myself for that, nor have I forgiven you."

The two were silent as the wind blew across the field.

"Tell Himura-san that I send my regards," Soujirou said finally, the smile returning to his lips. "And tell him that I too have given up my wandering."

"Where is Battosai?"

Kaoru jumped, startled out of her bokken practice. She whirled around to face Aoshi, as he gazed at her with a grave, unreadable expression.

"He's gone into town this morning," she said, rubbing sweat from her forehead. "To get some tofu."

"When will he be back?"

"He should be getting home soon-" She stopped as he abruptly turned from her, not acknowledging what she had said.

"Rude man," she muttered under her breath as she lifted her wooden sword to go again. "I don't understand how Misao sees anything in him." She smiled. "Unlike Kenshin…"

She stood still for a moment, her eyes becoming dreamy, holding her bokken loosely at her side, as she thought about a certain red-haired rurouni…

"Kaoru-dono?"

"Eep!"

She felt her heart flop inside of her as she again was startled out of her reverie, spinning around to face Kenshin, who stood with a confused look on his face, the tofu bucket in his hand.

"Is everybody out to give me a heart attack?" she fumed, shaking her bokken at him.

"Oro?" he said innocently.

Realizing that she had only a moment ago been daydreaming about this certain red-haired rurouni, she blushed and quickly took the tofu.

"Aoshi was looking for you a moment ago," she said, changing the subject.

Kenshin's face changed as his violet eyes became suddenly serious.

"What did he want?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Just scared me half to death, asked where you were and when you would be back, then stalked off without so much as a nod of thanks."

He was quiet for several moments, studying the ground, his red hair falling across his face. Then he turned his heel to leave.

"Hey!" Kaoru shouted, throwing the tofu bucket at him. "Quit ignoring me! You men are all jerks!"

She felt satisfied as the bucket hit him with a whack on the back of his head, drawing out loud cry of "Oro?" from his lips.

Misao grunted as she stirred the thick batter with a chopstick. It was the only thing she could find, though she had searched the entire kitchen for a spoon of some sort.

"Kenshin must not have done the dishes yet," she said to herself as she resolutely kept stirring, trying to blow a stray piece of hair from her face.

"What are you doing?"

She looked up at Aoshi, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"They're called 'cookies'," she said, pausing to flex her aching arms. "It's a Western recipe Kaoru got from Tae-san at the Akubeko."

Aoshi, as usual, said nothing, but simply stared at her with his stony gaze.

"Some of the ingredients were hard to find," she self-consciously chattered as she continued stirring. "I had to go buy the sugar and butter myself from that little Western market across town."

His eyebrow flickered.

"I bought it with my own money, though," she said hastily. "Gramps gave it to me."

She quickly avoided his gaze as she remembered their conversation from the day before.

"I got the money," he said softly. "I will return it to the Aoiya as soon as we go back to Kyoto."

She said nothing, not looking at him as he turned to walk down the hallway.

_The unknown calls you_

_To the house where leaves bring death._

_Scars of grief linger. _

_-Misuteri_

Kenshin read the lines again, his face furrowed in absorption.

"Another haiku…and this one stranger than the last."

Aoshi leaned against the dojo walls as the two stood outside, hidden away from the others.

"When did you receive this?" Kenshin asked, lowering the paper.

"Yesterday evening. It was delivered by Soujirou."

He looked up sharply, his eyes suddenly intense.

"Soujirou…in Tokyo?"

Aoshi nodded. "It seems that he has given up his wandering for the time being. He is now the servant of this…Misuteri."

Shaking his head, the rurouni sighed.

"This one had thought that Soujirou might have moved on to a better life," he said quietly. "That somehow, he might have realized-"

"That matters little now," Aoshi said, impatience edging his voice. "What I do next is vital."

At this change in his usual stoicism, Kenshin riveted his gaze squarely on him, cocking his head to the side.

"Tell me," he said. "Why is that you are have come to this one for counsel?"

Immediately, Aoshi's face became hard and masked.

"I have not come for counsel," he said, his jaw tight. "Nor have I yet to ask for any."

They were both silent as they stared at one another, the winds of promising rain blowing between them. Again, as the breeze stirred his long white coat, Kenshin caught sight of the kodachi, but said nothing.

It seemed that both Soujouro and Aoshi were being pulled back into their former ways.

Feeling a sort of regret, he again scanned the words on the white paper.

"The house where leaves bring death…" he murmured.

"The apothecary."

Kenshin looked up at him and nodded his head, his expression grave. "The unknown calls."

"People in the West are idiots," Misao muttered under her breath.

She had only been trying to cook these things for the past two hours. After she had placed pieces of the sticky dough on a stone plate, she had set it over a fire pot in the courtyard. Now, most of the dough had cooked into either very well done blobs or melted goop.

Misao adjusted the plate again so that the goop side of it could get cooked over the heat of the flames.

She wiped some sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She was feeling hot after sitting by the fire for so long. Squinting up at the sky, she saw dark clouds coming in. Rain would be here soon.

Suddenly, Misao saw something in the corner of her eye.

A shadow.

Standing, she whirled around quickly, drawing her kunai, ready to throw.

Nothing.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the courtyard.

No one. Everything was quiet.

She lowered her hands, but still looked around warily. It could have been nothing.

And yet…

She took a step back and turned, ready to bolt into the dojo.

_Took a step back…_

"Yeooooooooow!"

Misao howled as her leg pressed against the hot metal side of the fire pot. Her kunai flew in all directions as they were thrown from her flailing hands, embedding themselves into the dojo walls.

She hopped on one foot, clutching her leg in one hand, trying to balance with the other.

No use. She fell with an ungraceful _thump!_ onto her back, her arm knocking against the stone plate of cookies, which knocked over the fire pot…

Misao stared at the sky for moment, dazed and disoriented. The gray clouds above seemed to spin and heave as she took a deep breath and slowly sat up.

Blinking heavily, she looked around at the damage she had done. The fire pot lay on its side, smoke rising from the spilt ashes and scattered embers. Only the well-done cookies had remained on the plate. The goop was slowly dripping onto the ground. Her kunai were driven into several walls and posts.

"Kaoru's gonna kill me," she moaned.

"I'm sure she will."

Misao looked up and saw Aoshi standing over her, gazing calmly at the mess.

"Auuugh!"

Kaoru stood on the platform of the dojo, staring in horror at the chaotic disarray, her hand on her forehead.

"What the heck did you do?!" she cried, her eyes wide.

"I…uh…"

"Misao-dono, are you alright?"

Kenshin came bounding up behind Aoshi, kneeling beside her.

"I'm f-fine," she said tremulously, rubbing the burn on the side of her leg. "I just…uh…"

"YOU JUST MADE A HUGE MESS, THAT'S WHAT YOU DID!" Kaoru shouted, waving her arms angrily.

Kenshin gently pulled her hand away from her leg, examining the red skin.

"This one is sure that Megumi-dono has something that will help," he said, straightening up. "I'll send Yahiko to go get her."

"Yeah right," said Yahiko as he walked past Kenshin and Aoshi. "Send Sanosuke. He's the one who has a crush on her."

"I heard that, you twerp!"

With a grin, Yahiko swooped into the bathroom, latching the door behind him as Sano came bounding from the interiors of the dojo. He ran up to the door and pounded it with his fists.

"You had better get your butt out here now!" shouted Sanosuke. "Or I swear I'll kick this door down and drag you out by your hair."

"Ha! Not a chance!" Yahiko mocked from the safety of the bathroom. "You know Kaoru will never let you eat over here again if you did."

"Not as if I'd care…her cooking still stinks."

"Hey! You take that back!" Kaoru shouted, coming down on Sano's head with her bokken.

Aoshi watched the brawl in disgust.

Kenshin shook his head amusedly. "Well, you can never say it gets quiet around here, that you can't." He looked down at the shaken Misao and, in one swift motion, scooped her up in his arms.

"Himura!" she exclaimed, her voice coming back to her. "Put me down! I can walk!"

Kenshin ignored her fists punching his chest. "Walking on an injured leg is unwise. This one will have to go get the balm from Megumi-dono, I suppose."

"I'll get it."

He stopped at Aoshi's voice behind him and turned around.

"Do you know the way?" he asked, his face suddenly solemn.

"I can find the place."

Kenshin nodded as he stood at the based of the steps leading to the dojo.

"Yes…this one supposes that you can."

Misao paused in her indignant struggling to look at the two men looking at each other. Their gazes were locked, as if they were communicating something to each other.

Kenshin's brow suddenly cleared as he turned and walked through the doorway.

"It has been an interesting day so far, that it has."

Aoshi walked through the streets of Tokyo, taking no notice of the incessant clamor of the conversations of passers-by. His strides were long, measured, and swift, moist winds buffeting his face. People on the streets gave him room to pass in his determined step, as he deftly dodged between them, never faltering in his footing.

His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes narrowed as he made his way towards the apothecary, not needing to ask directions. The swing of the kodachi hidden under his long coat gave him bold confidence as he hurried to the place the mysterious haiku had told him to go.

He felt little apprehension as he neared the apothecary's store, thinking only of discovering this Misuteri who plagued him with poems of sorrow and pain, drawing the need and desire for his blades back into his heart. He smiled grimly to himself. Maybe _this_ was the enlightenment he had been searching for.

The apothecary's hut was small and squat, with no one going in or out of it. The streets were quieter here, out of the main street of Tokyo. The bamboo walls were damp with mold and it smelled strongly of herbs as Aoshi stood near the doorway, peering into the dim interior, watching for signs of movement.

"You came."

He spun around sharply at the sound of the voice behind him. He stopped short when he saw who it was.

"Not expecting me?" Soujirou smiled graciously, mocking him.

Even in the muted daylight of the gray clouds, Aoshi could see the young man's thinness, with hollowed cheeks and the loose-fitting gi that hung about his small body.

"What are you doing here?" Aoshi spoke quietly, indignation slipping into his voice.

Soujirou shrugged his slight shoulders. "For the same reason as anyone else who has need of an apothecary."

Glancing around him briefly, Aoshi could see that no one else was near. He fixed his narrowed gaze onto Soujirou. But the smile never flickered.

"You were wondering where Misuteri was?" Soujirou asked, holding out a piece of paper towards him.

Aoshi took the folded paper slowly, not shifting his stare from the young man's dirty face.

"I only want to know where it will end," he said, still keeping his voice quiet, feeling suddenly unconfident, as Soujirou's soft smile seemed pasted to his face.

A sense of dread seemed to tighten around his chest.

"What have you done?" Aoshi whispered, clenching his fists.

Soujirou said nothing as he turned away from the apothecary's hut, walking slowly towards Tokyo's main streets.

"Soujirou."

He made no sign of hearing Aoshi. He kept walking down the worn dirt road, his arms swinging casually at his sides.

"Soujirou!"

Again, he didn't stop. A deep rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.

Gritting his teeth, he strode quickly to match Soujirou's pace, until they were walking beside each other.

"Answer me." His voice came in a quiet growl.

"She was an old, shriveled woman," Soujirou said lightly, his smile broadening. "She was going to die soon anyway."

Aoshi blinked, taking a step back. He turned his head toward the hut. A woman was going inside. A customer, it would seem, by the empty basket dangling from her arm.

He looked back at Soujirou, who glanced at him questioningly, but didn't stop walking.

A high-pitched scream made Aoshi freeze in his steps. Soujirou let out a low laugh.

Aoshi's heart pounded in his chest as he ran towards the hut. The screams continued, piercing the heaviness the impending rain had brought.

He staggered into the dim room, blinking heavily as his eyes fully adjusted. The strong, spicy smell of herbs stung his nose as he pushed away bundles of plants hanging from the ceiling. He walked towards the sound of loud sobbing from the back of the hut.

He stopped when he saw a body hunched up in the corner, his breath catching in his throat. The woman with the basket lay knelt on the floor, weeping uncontrollably.

The old woman's leathery face was frozen in horror, her rheumy eyes blank and lifeless, her worn robes soaked with dark blood. A single kodachi was embedded into her heart.

Impossible.

Aoshi's hands suddenly trembled as he lifted his coat, the piece of paper fluttering to the floor. He reached for his kodachi.

There was only one in the sheath.

"You…"

The woman on the floor stared up at him in complete terror, her mouth working noiselessly. Her breath came in gasps and she clutched her basket tightly to her chest, as if it was a shield that would protect her.

Aoshi looked at her stonily, his hand still on the blade's hilt, his thoughts becoming rational. He could kill her now. He could stop her from screaming again.

He glanced at the old woman's body and shook his head.

No. He had killed many before. The assassin in him cried out for death, but he eased his grip on the kodachi. Not this time.

Slowly, he moved aside. She scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide. With a jerk of his head, he motioned towards the door. The woman tore past him and out onto the street, her steps heavy and faltering.

"Murder!" Her shrill voice screamed, ringing through the streets. "Murder!"

Aoshi bent over the body quickly and drew out his kodachi, pausing to wipe off the blood with the inside of his coat. As he sheathed the blade, he looked down and saw the forgotten paper.

Voices were becoming louder outside.

He bent down and picked it up. It had landed in a trickle of blood and had stained it red. The ink ran in wisps across the discolored paper, but the words were still legible.

_You are doomed by blood._

_Now, blood of one who loves you _

_Lies in your stained hands. _

_-Misuteri_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Groping Shadows

Misao sat propped up on her elbows, her burnt leg stinging painfully. Kenshin had placed her there, gently laying her on the mat. Kaoru had said nothing, but was obviously still upset about the chaotic mess she had made in the courtyard.

She still heard Kaoru shouting orders to Sano and Yahiko.

"_Sweep_ up those ashes, Yahiko! Don't just spread them around!…Sanosuke! Where do you think you're going? Come back here and help me clean up this mess!"

Misao felt restless as she shifted her position on the mat, trying to become more comfortable. The room felt humid and dense. She lifted one hand and patted her moist cheeks, wishing she could get up and walk outside where she could breathe wind-stirred air.

But as she bent her legs to stand up, she winced. The pain flared up through her calf, causing it to ache even more than it did before. The red skin was hot and painful to the touch, with small blisters beginning to form.

Exasperated, she sighed and leaned back on her elbows, looking longingly towards the shoji door, which was slightly ajar. If only she could get up and open it wide, maybe some fresh air would blow through and make the air less stuffy.

She could call Kenshin from the kitchen and ask him to open it. But then she would feel even more stupid than she did already.

_Bumping against a cooking pot…baka. _She smacked her head with the palm of her hand, berating herself.

Turning towards the small window to her left, she watched as the wind outside blew against the canvas flap, making it rise and fall with each breeze. She upturned her head, trying to catch some of the air that made its way inside…

The flap rose gently. She caught sight of a dark hooded figure, standing outside the window. The flap softly dropped back into its place.

Misao blinked, not sure what she had seen. Her heart began to pound as she leaned towards the window, waiting for the next breeze…

The flap stirred again, except this time, not by the wind.

A black-gloved hand, long and elegant, lifted the canvas flap. A dark hood, the face obscured by the deep shadow it offered, peered into the room.

A deep terror flooded her thoughts. Opening her mouth to yell, Misao couldn't find her voice. She choked on her breath, struggling to lift her hand to draw her kunai.

In an instant, the cloaked form slipped through the window, soft black boots making no noise as it glided, in one step, to Misao's side, grasping her raised arm in a tight grip.

"Now, none of that," a voice from the depths of the hood whispered, its tone tinged with mockery.

Another hand clapped over her mouth, squeezing her jaw painfully as long fingers dug into her cheek. Misao struggled violently, trying to free her arm, trying to kick, ignoring the pain shooting through her leg. Screaming against the hand, she twisted and jerked her body under the tight grip. She beat her feet against the floor, trying to alert the others. The figure sat astraddle her legs, forcing them to be still.

"_Kenshin!_" Her cry came out as a smothered shriek. "_Kenshin!_"

The hand clamped on her jaw only tightened its grasp, forcing her head back onto the floor. Misao's vision blurred and grew dim as the pain through her jaw increased. Her limbs felt like lead and a fierce nausea crept into her stomach, bringing bile to the back of her throat.

She lay limp for a moment, feeling like she would faint. Her breath was hot and sticky against the glove over her mouth. She stared up into the hooded face, blinking heavily, trying to bring her eyes to focus. The only thing she could see of the face were thin lips curved into a sadistic smile.

"So you have captured his eye, have you?" the voice murmured in a low voice. "And have you truly given him your heart?"

The hand had eased its grip on her face. Drawing a breath and letting out a muffled cry, Misao flailed her free arm towards her assailant, desperately flinging her kunai out from her fingers. The voice uttered a dark curse through gritted teeth as one of the sharp little blades embedded itself into its shoulder.

The hand clutching her arm shot out and grabbed her wrist, pinioning both of her arms to her chest, making her unable to move.

The voice laughed a soft throaty laugh. "Spirited, are we?"

Misao lay helpless, unable to resist any longer. The hold on her jaw was tighter than before, making her head begin to buzz and her eyesight hazy. She tried to yank her head to the side, to make the hand on her face release its clutch, but to no avail.

She was trapped. Her breaths came in soft whimpers. Kaoru's commands echoing through the courtyard, the clatter of Yahiko's broom and dustpan…it all seemed like a world away, unable to hear her frantic cries.

"Sweet dreams," the voice whispered.

The hand released her face. Misao opened her mouth to yell, but a rough cloth was shoved over her nose. The smell tingled her throat, a sickly sweet scent, choking her breathing.

Immediately, she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, her eyes growing heavier and heavier. Her body felt like it falling down a deep abyss, darkness engulfing her, its weight dragging her down into oblivion.

"Shhhh…" the voice soothed. "Shhhhhhhhh…"

* * *

Kenshin grimaced, sucking in his breath between his teeth. Blood oozed from his index finger, trickling slowly down his hand.

He sighed and placed the knife he had been using on the wooden cutting board, careful not to touch the onions he had been chopping. He picked up a cloth from the table and dipped it into the cup of water he had been drinking from, gingerly pressing it to his hand.

"You making any food in here?"

Sano sidled up beside him, his hands in his pockets, an eager look on his face as he looked at the cutting board.

Smiling, Kenshin shook his head.

"Only chopping onions for tonight's dinner, that I was," he said, tossing the cloth aside onto the table.

"You cut yourself?" Sano frowned when he saw the red stained material. "That's not like you."

"This one was thinking about Aoshi," Kenshin admitted, picking up the knife again. "He's been away for quite some time now."

Sanosuke shrugged indifferently. "At least he's not stalking around the place like he owns it."

Kenshin chuckled under his breath as he resumed his cutting.

"No comment please," Sano said, grinning wryly.

The knife paused, poised over the cutting board. Kenshin looked up sharply, his violet eyes gazing at nothing, his expression anxious.

"What is it?" Sanosuke kept his voice low, taking a step closer.

The ruruoni blinked, then turned his head to meet Sano's gaze.

"Nothing," he said quietly, ducking his head. He continued his cutting, but his face remained troubled.

Sano was silent as he reached over to pick up a piece of chopped onion. He jerked his hand back as the knife clattered to the floor.

Kenshin took a quick step back, his hand raised, motioning for him to be silent. He tilted his head to one side, as if listening intently, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Do you hear something?" he asked in quiet voice, not relaxing his stance.

Looking towards the hallway, Sano was still for several moments, his forehead furrowed. But he shook his head.

"No, I can't hear anything. Just Jou-chan storming around the courtyard."

Kenshin lowered his hand, bending down to pick up the knife.

"No…" he said slowly. "Not that…this one thought he heard his name being called."

Sano guffawed loudly, this time taking a handful of onion pieces.

"Maybe you're cracking for real this time," he said, stuffing them into his mouth. "But at least that loud girl is quiet for once."

"Misao-dono!"

Kenshin dashed out of the kitchen, bounding across the courtyard, Sano right behind him. He heard Kaoru call out his name as he ran, but he didn't stop. He tore open the sliding door, staggering inside of her room.

It was empty. The canvas flap over the window stirred gently in the wind.

He cast his gaze around the scene, looking for what was out of place. The mat was askew on the ground, as if there had been a struggle. Several kunai lay scattered across the floor. One was embedded into the wall, a thin piece of paper thrust through it. The tip of the kunai was stained with blood.

_You are too late now._

_Find one who smiles at nothing;_

_He has the answers._

_-Misuteri_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-

It had begun to rain.

Aoshi strode rapidly down the last stretch of road leading to the Kamiya dojo, not caring who saw him hurry now. Large water droplets splattered against his face and a jagged streak of lightning flashed above his head. A low clap of thunder soon followed.

He quickened his long steps, willing himself to walk faster, pushing away the urge to break out into a frantic run. His jaw was tight as he clenched his teeth, cursing himself for letting the others come with him to Tokyo. He should have left Kyoto on his own…

But would have Okina and Misao been safe even then?

When he stopped in front of the large red dojo doors, the rain was starting to fall even harder. He glanced around, satisfied that Soujirou hadn't followed him. Then, taking a deep breath, he slid the doors open, and stepped over the threshold, nearly colliding with Kenshin.

The two stopped and looked at each other for a moment, both of them blinking rainwater from their eyes.

"Where is Misao?" Aoshi kept his voice low as he glanced over the rurouni's shoulder at Sanosuke's bewildered face.

Kenshin said nothing, his expression dark. His fingers clutched a crumpled piece of white paper, which he slowly offered to Aoshi.

Aoshi stared at the paper as the rain splattered against it, smudging the black ink.

Glaring fiercely, he looked at up at Kenshin.

"I said, 'Where is Misao?'"

"Come with me." Kenshin's voice was quiet, but his eyes betrayed his deep anxiety. He turned and strode quickly across the courtyard. Aoshi looked again at Sano, who avoided his gaze, and hurried his steps to catch up with the rurouni. Wrapping his hand around his kodachi's hilt, Aoshi followed the others, his heart beginning to thud sickeningly in his chest.

Kenshin stopped at the open sliding door to Kaoru's room, waiting as Aoshi caught up to stand beside him.

Aoshi took in the scene, his keen eyes missing nothing. The haphazard kunai, the awry tatami mat, a small stain of blood on the wall…

"There was another message?" he asked, not riveting his stare from the bloodstain.

Nodding, Kenshin again handed the paper towards Aoshi. He snatched it from his hand, his eyes running over the three lines.

"It's Soujirou." He spat out the name as he crushed the paper in his fingers.

"The little jerk," Sano muttered. "What's he thinking, going right back to what we got him out of."

"I'm weary of all of this foolishness," Aoshi said through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to chase some hireling." He turned to look at Kenshin with quiet intensity. "I'm going to find Misao. Even if it means bloodshed."

Kenshin nodded slowly. "If Misao-dono's life is in jeopardy, then so be it."

0-0-0

Sano sulked in the doorway as he watched Kenshin strap on his sakabatou.

"Why is it that I always get stuck with babysitting duty," he complained. "while you go get all of the fights to yourself?"

Kenshin felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, despite the press of urgency he felt. "This one would rather not fight."

"Yeah, life is cruel that way. You would rather not fight. I would rather not stay here."

Kenshin sighed heavily and he looked up to meet Sanosuke's gaze.

"Someone has to stay here and watch out for Kaoru-dono and Yahiko." His voice became quiet. "This one was too late to save Misao-dono. That's why it's my responsibility to go with Aoshi. And this one would never forgive himself if this happened again. You have to be on your guard, Sano. If they got in once, they can do the same again, that they can."

Sano punched his fist in his palm, a smirk on his face. "Let 'em try."

0-0-0

Kaoru looked up from rearranging her futon as Kenshin walked quickly past her bedroom. She scrambled to her feet quickly and leaned out from the door.

"Kenshin?"

Stopping in his tracks, he turned. She was taken aback by the change his eyes took when he looked at her. From deep anxiety, to deep tenderness.

"I…are you leaving now?" she asked, feeling foolish at her lameness.

"Yes. Aoshi is waiting for this one outside the gates."

"When will you be back?" Her eager tone seemed to bring a small smile to his face.

"I don't know yet. But this one promises, he will be back as soon as he can."

He nodded in farewell, and as he turned to go, Kaoru couldn't help but feel a pang of worry stab her heart.

0-0-0

Aoshi stood outside of the dojo gates. The rain had grown fiercer and the wind lashed against his body, whipping his long white coat about his legs. He remained motionless, but kept his eyes alert. People ran past him, stooping over in the rain, splattering mud on his pants. But he didn't move.

He turned his head when he saw movement from across the dirt road. A lithe figure, clambering down a tree. It landed on its feet and stood, looking at Aoshi. Then, nonchalantly, it strolled towards him.

"I was right when I said that you wouldn't come after me," Soujirou said cheerfully.

"Where is she?" Aoshi growled, his hand ready to draw his kodachi.

"Tsk tsk!" Soujirou taunted, looking surprised. "Drawing your blades in broad daylight, in the middle of the street? I didn't think you were that stupid."

Aoshi slowly put his hands down at his sides, glaring hard at Soujirou. The two of them both turned to look as Kenshin came from the gates. The red haired rurouni stopped in his tracks when he saw Soujirou's grinning face.

"Himura-san!" Soujirou said amiably, his smile growing broader. "You seem surprised to see me."

Kenshin glanced at Aoshi, then at Soujirou. He was quiet as he seemed to search the young man's face, looking for something. For a moment, Soujirou's smile faltered as he caught Kenshin's scrutinizing gaze and he ducked his head slightly, looking towards the ground, as if ashamed.

"This one hopes you are well, Soujirou," Kenshin said softly.

"If you don't mind, Himura-san," Soujirou replied, his composure regained. "I think Shinomori-san would like me to get to the point of this meeting. Am I right?" He turned his face towards Aoshi.

Aoshi said nothing.

"This is actually ruining the plans," Soujirou said, pushing his wet hair from his forehead. "You were supposed to leave the dojo while I followed you. But, seeing Shinomori-san standing there, I knew that I was going to have to come to you."

"Get to the point," Aoshi snapped impatiently. "Where is Misao?"

Aoshi's uncharacteristic emotion seemed to amuse Soujirou and he lifted his eyebrows mockingly.

"You will have to follow me," he said. "Speaking of it here is dangerous."

"Listen." Aoshi grabbed Soujirou by the collar, pulling him close to his face, his eyes narrowed into a glare. "I'm not going to be manipulated. You are going to tell me where Misao is. And if you have hurt her-"

Soujirou never flinched. He only held his hands up in surrender. "You needn't worry," he assured Aoshi. "She's perfectly alright."

Aoshi stared deeply into Soujirou's unreadable eyes.

"If you don't trust me, then come and see for yourself."

Kenshin came up behind Aoshi and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Let him be," he murmured. "We need to go quickly, for Misao-dono's sake, that we do."

Aoshi released his grip on Soujirou, his face full of dark anger.

Soujirou didn't seem perturbed as he smoothed out his gi. "Now, gentlemen, if you will just follow me."

The sky was fading into a clear evening, the clouds seeming to have been whisked away by the reckless summer wind. Kenshin walked beside Aoshi as they followed Soujirou, who strolled in front of them, humming a tune to himself. Kenshin looked down at Aoshi's coat. There was a smear of blood on the lining in the inside of it.

"Is that your blood?" Kenshin asked quietly.

Aoshi followed Kenshin's gaze and his whole body seemed to tense.

Shaking his head sharply, Aoshi said simply, "Soujirou killed the apothecary."

Kenshin paused in his steps, a confounded looked on his face.

"What?" he exclaimed, his voice edged with shock. He caught up beside Aoshi again.

He spoke in a dull voice. "When I went to the hut, Soujirou had already killed her. With my kodachi."

Kenshin looked even more amazed. "But how did Soujirou get it?"

"I don't know."

"What did you do?"

"Took the blade, cleaned it." He looked down at his stained coat. "A woman saw me. She ran out into the street, screaming murder. I came to the dojo."

Pensive, Kenshin stared ahead at Soujirou's back. The young man seemed carefree, happy even. Who was this Misuteri that had lured him back into his insanity?

"This is ridiculous," Aoshi muttered, looking towards Soujirou. "I have never been so furious…except once when at Edo-" He stopped abruptly and self-consciously glanced at Kenshin. "But I promise you," he resumed, keeping his voice lowered. "Whoever this Misuteri is shall wish they had never dared to touch her."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- Misuteri

"Waking already?"

Misao's eyes shot open, as she reflexively jerked her body up. A hand quickly took her shoulder and pressed her down.

Her vision was blurred and disoriented as she turned her head to look about her. She was lying on her back, the cold stones digging into her spine. She shivered and tried to blink in the dim light that surrounded her, trying to remember…

The memory came rushing back. She struggled to scramble to her feet, opened her mouth to scream, but powerful arms wrapped around her and pushed her back to the floor, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She gasped as she collapsed and then doubled over, the sound of her vomit splattering against the stone floor echoing loudly in her ears.

The dark-cloaked figure shoved her away and Misao groaned as her back hit a wall. She blinked and shook her head gingerly, trying to clear the spots from her vision.

"No more of that," the familiar voice warned. "Or I shall use the ether again."

Misao swallowed the foul taste of bile in her mouth and grimaced as it seemed to scrape against her raw throat.

"Who are you?" she rasped, leaning forward in the dimness. She could only make out a shadow.

"You will know soon enough."

There was a scuffling of boots and the swish of a flowing cape as Misao saw the shadow turn and the creaking screech of a iron hinges rubbing against each other as a gateway was opened.

"Stupid gate," the voice muttered, thrusting it forward. The figure turned to look over its shoulder and there was a smile in its voice. "I made it just for you. It wasn't here before."

There was the sound of soft footsteps. A young man in a dirty gi and a strange grin on his face came and stood beside the cloaked figure.

"Yes Soujioru?" the figure said, stepping from behind the gate.

"They are in the front corridor," the young man said, the smile never fading from his lips.

"Good." The shadow jerked the gate into place and locked it with a long key.

"What would you have me do now?" Soujirou's face was expectant and bright, like a dog that wants to do tricks for its master.

The figure was quiet for a moment. "Stay here and watch her. I want to meet them alone." Misao felt unseen eyes from the depths of the hood stare at her. "She won't be any trouble. Give her some water later."

Soujirou nodded eagerly and even gave a small bow as the cloaked figure brushed past him.

She shuddered as he turned his empty smile towards her. Somehow, he scared her the most, with that constant unreadable expression perpetually frozen on his face.

"How is your leg?" he asked.

Misao looked down at the red blistering skin, realizing that the pain had subsided to a dull ache that she barely took notice of.

"If it doesn't pain you much now, then enjoy it while it lasts," Soujirou said matter-of-factly, leaning against the grimy bars of the gate. "You're still feeling the effects of the ether. But it will wear off soon."

She turned her head, unwilling to listen to him any longer. Nausea continually raged in her insides and the room seemed to tilt back and forth. She looked up and saw the light from an overhead window shining above her. The light was a deep gold color. The color of twilight. As she gazed at the shaft of light that fell on the opposite wall, she was absently reminded of the color of Aoshi's coat collar.

Closing her heavy eyelids, she let her thoughts wander aimlessly, her body still under the effects of the drug. In her mind, she went over her kicks and punches, like Han'ya had often instructed her to do before she went to sleep. She could still hear his raspy voice, guiding her movements when she practiced.

"_Up and punch! Level your fist out into your center. Not too high…then thrust down…"_

o-o-o

Kenshin looked around him in the dim corridor. Hundreds of thick candles flickered in the gloom, casting moving shadows on the cobwebbed walls. Dust lay like a thick blanket on all of the furniture and electric lights, long out of use. As he looked, he couldn't help but remember the night he had first stepped into this mansion.

How long ago it all seemed…the night he had gone to rescue Megumi…the night he had met Aoshi…the night the Oniwabbanshuu had been murdered…

He glanced up at Aoshi, who stood like a stone statue, his hand gripping the hilt of his kodachi so that his knuckles were white. He didn't look around him. He only stared straight ahead, a blue fire burning in his eyes with dark intensity.

He hadn't spoken a word since he had told Kenshin about the apothecary. But he hadn't been able to hide his shock when Soujirou had led them to the front gate of Takeda Kanryu's mansion. He had paused before entering through the gate. He wore a guarded expression, but Kenshin saw what looked like angered pain in his eyes.

"Kanryu commited suicide in prison soon after he was arrested for opium and firearm smuggling," Soujioru had informed them as they had walked up the long overgrown path towards the mansion's doors. "The government seized the property and it's been deserted ever since." He laughed softly to himself. "Makes it all the more easy to use for our secrecy."

Now, Kenshin warily eyed the corridor. The dancing shadows played tricks on his eyes, and it had been some minutes since Soujirou had left them there.

"Make yourselves at home!" he had called cheerfully before he had disappeared down the hall.

Kenshin felt uneasy as he turned and tested the door's handles. They were locked in.

"Aoshi, what do you remember about this mansion?" he asked, fingering his sakabato. "Are there escape routs hidden in these walls?"

Aoshi didn't answer him, nor did he turn his stony gaze.

"And where is the most likely place that they would have hidden Misao-dono?"

Still, Aoshi didn't acknowledge anything he had said.

"Aoshi, please," Kenshin whispered.

"Welcome."

Kenshin turned his head, startled. A figure stood in the dim yellow candlelight, little more than a lithe silhouette.

"Forgive my lack of light," the voice came from the depths of the hood that covered the speaker's face. "I tend to prefer the dark."

Again, Kenshin glanced around the corridor. But nothing lurked in the shadows. The figure appeared to be alone.

"Where is she?" Aoshi's voice was dangerously menacing.

The voice laughed a low, breathy laugh. "Still the same, I see. Have the years not taught you to be patient, Aoshi?"

Aoshi blinked, and his brow furrowed as he peered farther into the dimness.

"And you. The rurouni." The figure turned to Kenshin. "I didn't request your presence."

Kenshin said nothing, concentrating on the voice that came from the black shadow of the hood. He couldn't tell if it was male or female. Too smooth to be a man's. Not falsetto enough to be a woman's.

As she turned back towards Aoshi, he saw the glimmer of a blade that was attached to the end of a long bow, strapped across the figure's back. His grip on his sakabatou became even tighter and he slowly relaxed his legs into a fighting stance.

"No matter." The figure waved a black-gloved hand dismissively. "It is only natural, I suppose, that you keep company with such a one as the Battousai. You, the okashira of the Oniwabbanshuu."

The figure took a step forward. "You haven't changed, Aoshi. I see it in your eyes. They are the same as I remember them. Always lit with a cool flame, always icy. Never soft or tender. Except when you would look at me."

o-o-o

Aoshi unconsciously backed away from the advancing shadow. His heart began to pound like a death drum and a shiver seemed to shake his insides. It couldn't be…

The voice laughed again. "It is truly amusing. You wear a mask of jaded callousness, like the mask Han'ya would wear for you. But it was always I who seemed to be able to break it. It seems that I still can."

The figure lifted its graceful fingers and slowly pulled back the hood ever so slightly. Aoshi inhaled sharply, and he stared, incredulous.

"Takara," he whispered, barely able to speak, feeling the blood draining from his face.

She smiled thinly with her pale lips. Her green slanted eyes were hard, full of bitterness.

"You still remember, then," she said in that unique voice he now recalled. "I had wondered if you had forgotten."

He said nothing. He couldn't move. His chest felt tight and he could only stare.

o-o-o

Aoshi's expression was full of open shock and he seemed stunned, as if he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. His mouth was parted in surprise and Kenshin heard his breathing become short, as if he were choking.

"We have come for Misao-dono," he said in a firm voice, drawing the woman's gaze to meet his. Her eyes reminded him of cat's eyes. Focused, proud, and…like a death sentence on its prey. They seemed to glow pale green in the flickering candlelight.

He barely had time to take a breath. One arrow whirled past his temple as he jumped to the side and swung his sakabatou. There was a swift snap of wood as his blade struck a second arrow aimed to the right of his chest, the clatter of the small metal tip ringing like a tiny bell against the floor.

His eyes widened even as he realized what he had done. His mind calculated it even faster than he could react. His arm was down at his side, having hit the second arrow out of his range. But this had left his wrist twisted into an odd angle. He wouldn't be able to block in time…

Kenshin gasped as a third arrow hit its mark, at the exposed base of his neck, close to his throat. Gritting his teeth, he yanked it out, hoping to stop the spread of the poison. But his vision was already tunneling, everything becoming gray and dark.

"Even the Battousai fell for my double-arrow trick." The woman's strange voice sounded like it was far off, echoing in his mind. He blinked heavily, took deep breaths, trying to fight the heaviness settling in his limbs. But his legs buckled beneath him and he sank to his knees. His sakabatou slipped from his fingers and clanged harshly across the floor, and he groped for it with trembling hands. He froze when a boot planted itself on its blade, holding it down firmly.

"It's nothing personal," she said, her words seeming slurred to his ears. "but I've been waiting for this moment for fifteen years, and I can't have you spoil it for me." She shoved him roughly to the ground, so that his cheek was pressed against the cold marble floor. "Sayonara."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6-

Everything was still. Aoshi could hear the hissing of the candles as the wicks burned down low. Takara hadn't moved from where she stood, over Kenshin's still form, her bow clenched in her hand.

"It's just you and I now, Aoshi," she murmured, taking a step towards him. "Like it was, so long ago. Remember?" She stared at him squarely and took a step towards him, her face full of longing. A hopeful smile flickered across her pale features as she gazed into his face.

He looked away and shut his eyes for a moment, repressing all the thoughts that were rushing to his head like a violent storm.

"Remember, Aoshi? Remember when we would sit on the battlements, late into the night?" Her voice was different than it was before. It was quiet, imploring, gentle. "You would tell me about your dreams, your nightmares, everything. You would sit close by me-"

"Enough." His tone was sharp. She recoiled as he looked up at her with hard eyes, her face dark with hurt and surprise. "I don't want to hear anymore." _Remember Misao. Remember why you came._

All at once, she stiffened and her expression became stony, any traces of tenderness vanishing.

"I came for Misao," he said evenly, surreptitiously unlocking his kodachi out of its sheath with a soft metallic _ching_.

"You shall not have her," she said simply.

"What?" It was more of a challenge than a question.

"You heard what I said. You shall not have her…" She smiled slowly. "Until I have finished."

That was it.

Something inside of him broke. His control was gone. His blood sang with fury, rage flooded through him like a tidal wave. With a deep-throated cry, he drew his kodachi and lunged at her, crossing his blades in front of him, aiming at her white throat. There was the heavy clang of metal against metal and he found himself inches away from her face, looking from between the blades.

She laughed as she thrust her bladed bow from its block, making him stagger backwards.

"The Goko Juji," she said. "Don't look surprised. I know all of your technique. I only learned it from the best."

She lifted up her bow and held it in front of her, obviously preparing for another attack. Her eyes were tinged with amusement as she watched him, his hands trembling as they gripped the kodachi, his breathing ragged and heavy.

"I drugged her with ether," she said quietly. "She struggled to get free, but-"

He swung his body into the Kaiten Kenbu, slicing off her words as he spun in midair. He clenched his teeth, reaching out to slash with his blades, preparing for the sound of metal ripping flesh.

There was a flash of white-hot pain through his head. He gasped and crumpled to the ground. The kodachi clattered to the floor from his suddenly limp hands. Warm blood trickled from between his fingers as he gripped his head, dripping over his hand and onto the floor.

"I know you too well, Aoshi." She stood over him, pointing the tip of the bloodied blade in his face. "That was why you ultimately hated me."

He couldn't respond. He just lay there, panting, suddenly exhausted. He blinked as sweat and blood dripped into his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to sooth his burning lungs.

There was the sound of retreating footsteps down the hall. He barely noticed them as he stared at the tiled floor. He tried to regain control of his pounding heart, but he couldn't focus.

He was terrified.

What had happened to him? His control, his steady thinking. It had vanished like a whirlwind in that moment when she had taunted him, replacing it with wild rage, reckless fury. Just like it had all those years ago on that night when the Ikazuchi had attacked and she had been…

_No, not again…_

Feeling disoriented and bewildered, as if he was waking up in a place he didn't know, he looked around the dim hall. The light from the candles was beginning to dwindle. He slowly stood on shaking legs, carefully sheathing his kodachi with unsteady hands. He stumbled over something in the darkness and looked down at Kenshin's still body.

For a moment, he felt alarmed and he quickly knelt down beside him. But when he held his fingers over Kenshin's mouth, he could still feel breath, shallow and short.

With a grunt, Aoshi hoisted Kenshin's limp body over his shoulders and slowly stood. The door opened easily under his touch, and when he turned one last time to peer into the gloom, he fancied he could see two glowing green eyes watching him as he quietly stepped over the threshold and into the fading light of the evening.

o-o-o

Megumi was straightening the last of the bottles on the shelves, her arms feeling as heavy as if sacks of rice were hanging from her wrists. Her feet ached terribly, along with her back and neck.

"If anyone needs a doctor, it's me," she muttered to herself. She was looking forward to going home, taking a bath, and going to bed.

It had been a long day. Even Gensai-sensei usually so full of stamina to last, seemed to be weighed down by weariness, his wrinkled face drooped with fatigue by the end of the second baby delivery they had done that day. Then there had been that boy who had needed his arm to be reset. Megumi's ears were still ringing from his screams.

She winced when there was a sharp knock on the door. Sighing, she stared at the shelves, reluctant to open it. She wished she hadn't sent Gensai-sensei home early. He had the practicality of mind to be able to send some away when they called for her because of petty illnesses. She simply hadn't the heart to turn anyone away, no matter what the circumstance.

But when the knock came again, more insistent this time, adding a headache to her list of pains, she knew that she would have to try and steel herself against any pleas. There was a midwife down the road, who would be more than happy to take some of Megumi's customers for herself.

Taking one last determined breath, she went to the door and opened it slightly.

"I'm sorry," she began. "But we're-"

She stopped, her words caught in her throat. Aoshi stared at her, blinking away blood that trickled from a gash across his forehead. He carried a limp body over his shoulders. From behind his red hair that was covering his face, she could see Kenshin's pale face, twisted up in pain even in unconsciousness.

Immediately, her weariness was replaced with a sense of urgency as she opened the door wider, standing aside so that Aoshi could pass through.

"Come in," she whispered. "Quickly!"

Without a word, he stepped over the threshold into the small clinic.

"Over there," she said, gesturing to a cot on the floor.

She watched and gathered up her long hair as he carefully laid Kenshin on the cot. His movements were slow and sluggish, and he sat with his back against the wall, closing his eyes with a short sigh.

Megumi lost no time as she bent over Kenshin, inspecting the small circular wound at the base of his neck. It had swollen into a deep purple color, caked with dried blood. Using a damp cloth soaked in sake, she began blotting it away. The wound oozed fresh blood, and Kenshin stirred, moaning incoherently.

"It looks like poison," she murmured anxiously to herself.

"It is."

She glanced up briefly at Aoshi. He still had his eyes closed as he spoke. "Will he die?"

Placing the back of her hand on Kenshin's cheek, she shook her head. "No. He isn't feverish." She paused and looked at Aoshi, but he never opened his eyes. "What happened?"

"It was an arrow," he said dully, dodging her question.

Deciding to ignore him for the moment, she gently cleansed the wound. The skin was still swollen into a large purple welt. Kenshin's breathing was becoming more and more even, but he didn't awaken, even as she had struggled against his dead weight to bind the cloth around his shoulder and neck.

But she hadn't dared to ask Aoshi for assistance. Even as she took a bottle of calamine and knelt beside him, she couldn't help but feel the irony of the situation. Especially since she still couldn't help but feel wary in his presence. For the first time since she had known him, he wasn't an enemy, nor was he threatening to take her life.

_Quite the opposite, in fact, _she thought grimly.

Pouring calamine on a fresh cloth in her hand, she lightly pressed it against the cut across his forehead. His eyes opened and she was struck by how blue they looked against the red blood that covered most of his face. But there was something else that remained in his face, something that Megumi had never seen before. His eyes had a haunted, lost look, as if trying to forget the horror of a lingering nightmare.

He only kept her gaze for a moment before quickly averting his eyes.

"It's not a very deep cut," she said quietly, pouring more calamine on the cloth. "But head wounds bleed excessively."

He brushed away her hand as she lifted the cloth towards him again.

"I have to leave," he said, still not looking at her. He slowly began to stand, moving as if his body ached.

"But it isn't safe." She jumped to her feet quickly. "You can't walk out into the streets bleeding like that."

"I'll manage."

He went to the door, but hesitated as he placed his fingers on the handle. "I'll send someone from the Kamiya dojo to get him tonight."

Megumi watched silently as he slipped into the streets, softly closing the door behind him.

o-o-o

Sanosuke paced in the courtyard of the dojo, muttering to himself, his hands shoved in his pockets. Kenshin still hadn't returned, and the night shadows were starting to close in over the sky. He could hear Kaoru inside, making a lot of noise in a sorry attempt to make dinner. He knew that she was anxious, but she did her best to hide it.

_That won't help her cooking, unfortunately, _he thought. He kicked the washing tub ruefully, wishing he were anywhere else but here. He hated waiting. He was beginning to feel some sympathy for Kaoru, now understanding what she usually had to go through when she was left behind. The tension he felt was tormenting him, even though he had total belief in Kenshin's abilities to fend for himself.

"Feh. You're getting as bad as she is," he said to himself as he lowered himself onto the wooden platform. "Just wait. He'll be back with that gloomy jerk, and then you'll laugh at yourself for freaking out so much."

As if an answer to his thoughts, the dojo doors opened and one figure stepped into the courtyard. In the darkness, Sano could see the long white coat.

"Hey," he said, standing quickly. "Where's Kenshin?"

Aoshi motioned for him to lower his voice as he stepped up to him. From the light spilling from the interior of the dojo, Sano could see the blood that covered most of his face.

"Whoa, what's going on?" he asked anxiously, his stomach turning to ice. "Is Kenshin alright?"

Nodding, Aoshi spoke in a low voice. "He's at Takani Megumi's clinic. Though he's unconscious at the moment, I need someone to get him back here tonight."

"Unconscious? What happened?" Sano asked worriedly.

"I can't explain it all now. Perhaps he will when he awakens. But you need to find a way to get him here. Megumi is waiting."

"How am I supposed to get him back?"

"I don't know," Aoshi answered as he turned back to walk towards the dojo doors.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Sano demanded, feeling very bewildered.

But Aoshi didn't answer him. He quietly slid past the dojo doors, leaving Sanosuke standing alone in the courtyard.

o-o-o

Aoshi sat in the darkness, staring at the four headstones in front of him. The night was cool with stormy winds, threatening to open watery floodgates. The usual sounds of a summer night were quiet in the chilly breeze, adding to the weight of dread in Aoshi's mind.

_Takara._

Thoughts tormented him, bits of memories he had hoped long forgotten, bringing a cruel cold emptiness with them. He struggled to clear his mind, to concentrate, but it was a fruitless effort.

Standing restlessly, he looked down at the headstones. There was no sharp pain of grief as he gazed at the rough-hewn stones. Only a dull ache of sorrow, like a wound that is never fully mended. It was a fresh pain that now plagued him. The memory of a young girl's face, her eyes full of tears as she gazed at him, imploring…

_Misao. _

Aoshi shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed. No, Misao had never looked at him in such a way. It was someone else, someone on a dark night, in the dim corridors of Edo castle…

_Takara. _

Rubbing his hand through his hair in frustration, Aoshi slumped against the bark of a tree. He felt like a traitor. He had sworn to protect Misao. She trusted him, adored him. Any time he spoke to her, her eyes shone. But his thoughts were obsessed with the woman who was threatening her life. He felt like a man under a spell.

_It was like that then_, he thought, looking up at the brooding clouds above the treetops. _I could never focus when she was near me and I was never able to get her out of my head. It controlled me like a puppet on strings…_Dark anger flared up in him like a kindled fire. _But never again. Never again. _

Resolution filled him as he straightened, wiping away the blood that caked his face. He would find Misao. And he vowed to do it, even if it meant killing the one who had once loved him the most.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-

It was pain that eventually awoke Misao. A stinging, fiery pain that screamed at her as she as opened her eyes. Bright morning light poured through the window above her, casting the room in a golden glow, the reality of where she was making her stomach clench into knots. She sat up slowly and looked down at the burn on her leg, which had woken her with the pain shooting through it. The skin had bubbled into ugly, fluid fill blisters. She examined it carefully, not wanting to cry, though desperately feeling the urge to.

_Come on, Misao! You're a kunoichi! Be tough!_

Nevertheless, tears began stinging her eyes as she looked around her small, circular prison. Large stones made up the wall and floor. The lone window above her had bars on it and she grasped them to haul herself up, carefully maneuvering her injured leg. The window was level with the long green grass on the lawn outside. She looked for a gate, but there were only trees.

"Not much of a view, I'm afraid."

Misao spun around and abruptly fell to her knees. She gasped when she saw the smiling face of the young man who had been there last night. He sat outside the rusty metal gate, staring at her strangely, a look of amusement never leaving his thin face.

"Have you been here the whole time?" she demanded in a thick voice, realizing her throat felt terribly sore. She also felt uncomfortable with the idea that he had been watching her all night.

"Would you like some water?" he asked, not answering her question as he picked up a clay jug beside him.

Much as she would have liked to have refused, her mouth felt painfully dry and a sour taste clung to her tongue. She nodded begrudgingly and slowly stood, her legs feeling uncertain beneath her. She limped towards the gate, avoiding the puddle of vomit that still lay splattered across the floor, and leaned against the gate's rusty hinges as he passed her a small clay cup filled with water through the bars.

She gulped the water down quickly, feeling his eyes on her as she did. She glared at him as she shoved the cup back into his hand. He merely smiled back.

"Has she awoken, Soujirou?" asked a familiar low voice.

A woman in a dark hood came up behind him. But the hood was pushed back so that Misao could see the pale face of her kidnapper, who regarded her with a look of bitter-filled disdain in her pale green eyes, so scrutinizing that Misao felt suddenly self-conscious and vulnerable.

"What's going on?" she demanded, summoning up her courage as her heart began to beat inside of her chest. "Where am I?"

"Where you are is of no consequence," the woman said severely, her gaze becoming narrower. "And as to why you are here, that is none of your concern." She turned to Soujirou and pulled him aside so that their backs were facing Misao. Straining her ear, Misao tried to make out the whispered words.

"I'm going to make rounds through the mansion. He knows it better than we do and he'll use secret passageways, so stay alert."

He nodded and fingered the wakizashi strapped to his hip. It had not been there the night before.

"If he comes, then…" Misao could hear the smile in the woman's voice, hushed as it was. "you'll have a chance to settle a score, won't you?"

Soujirou said nothing as he turned back towards the gate, the smile suddenly gone from his face. He stared at the floor grimly, his hand still wrapped around the hilt of the wakizashi, and leaned heavily against the wall of the hallway. Misao heard the woman walk down the corridor, her soft boots making hardly any noise on the stones. There was a loud clang of a metal door shutting, the sound echoing down through the hall.

Misao tried to hide the hope that she knew was shining in her eyes as she turned towards the barred window. That woman must have been talking about Aoshi. Who else could it be? She felt her heart do a leap as she imagined him with brandished kodachi, hacking through any resistance he might meet up with, his eyes holding that icy determined glare, coming to rescue her.

She smiled resolutely, any hints of tears vanishing, as she gripped the metal bars of the window. _Unless I get out of here first!_

x-x-x

Kenshin fought to open his eyes. He struggled to sit up, but quickly gasped when a throbbing pain seemed to crush his chest. With sweaty hands, he gripped the sheet that covered him as it slowly faded to a dull ache, taking deep gulps of the warm humid air that surrounded him.

"Kenshin?"

He tried to blink the heaviness from his eyes and saw Kaoru's concerned face leaning over him. He smiled shakily. "Hello, Kaoru-dono."

Immediately, she scowled and slapped a cold compress onto his forehead. "There's nothing to grin about! We've all been worried to the point of illness about you! None of us even know where you were, and then when Aoshi came and said that you were at Megumi-san's clinic, unconscious-"

"Aoshi?" His sharp tone seemed to startle her out of her angry spiel. "Where is he?"

Kaoru shook her head. "Sanosuke said that he came and told him that you were at the clinic. Then he left without saying where he was going or what had happened." She scowled again, pressing the compress harder against his forehead than necessary and he winced. "I'm getting tired of all this mysterious riddle-speaking around here. I want to know what's going on, and I want to know _now_!" She jerked the cloth from his face and splashed it into the bowl of water beside her. "And you had better tell me, because I am really starting to lose my patience." She held up the dripping fabric threateningly above his forehead.

She looked surprised as he slowly reached up and took her hand, lowering it gently onto the floor. "This one is sorry," he said softly. "I never meant to hide anything from you, that I didn't. This one only wants to see you safe."

Looking shamefaced at his quiet words, she placed the cloth in the bowl, not meeting his gaze.

At that moment, Sano burst into the room. "Hey, missy! You had better tell that jerk to wake up, or I'm going to-" He stopped when he saw Kenshin smiling wanly up at him. "Feh. This is no time to grin like that! I want to know what's going on, and I want to know _now_!" He knelt down and lowered his fist under Kenshin's nose.

"Kenshin's awake?" Yahiko ran into the room, his face still sweaty from his bokken practice. "About time."

"Oro?" he murmured as he looked at all three faces staring down at him intensely, obviously waiting for an explanation. He sighed as he slowly sat up, grimacing while pain again shot through the right side of his chest. He could already feel the wound throbbing in protest as he shifted himself up and leaned forward to steady himself. Koaru's hand hovered over his shoulder, as if she were shy to touch him.

Again, he let out his breath and looked at each of their expectant faces. Then, carefully, he began to stand, his knees tottering underneath him.

"Hey!" said Yahiko, stepping in front of him so that his nose was brushing against his chest. "Where do you think you're going?"

Kenshin grunted and straightened, fixing his gi so that it covered his bare chest. "Is this one not allowed to get a cup of water?" he asked meekly.

Sano snorted. "Kaoru, go get him some water."

"Yahiko, go get him some water."

"Kenshin, get the water yourself," Yahiko snapped as he whirled on Kaoru, giving her an angry look. "I am getting so tired of you ordering me around! Are you so lazy that you will do nothing for yourself?"

"This one will get the water," Kenshin said, taking shaky steps towards the door. But no one seemed to be listening.

"Ordering you around? I'm your teacher! That's what I'm supposed to do," said Kaoru, her hands on her hips. "Don't even get me started. I've been so stressed out since last night-"

"Can't you guys just shut up for a moment?" muttered Sano irritably. "I had a really late night."

"And you!" Kaoru pointed accusingly at him. "You can't just tell me what to do! This is my dojo, and don't you forget it!"

At this moment, Kenshin was relieved to hear their voices yelling at each other as he slid the door closed. He needed a moment to gather his scattered thoughts. He would have to tell the other what had happened at the mansion, he knew. But what to tell?

He concentrated as he stared down at the cup in his hand, standing in the empty kitchen. The last thing he could recall was the arrow striking him, then the cold marble against his face. He absently rubbed his aching shoulder.

That woman. Kenshin had never seen Aoshi so shaken, so horrified. He had whispered her name like it was a long forgotten curse. _Takara_.

Where was Aoshi now? Had he gone to look for Misao-dono alone? Kenshin massaged his forehead with a trembling hand, still feeling the heavy effects of the poison. He had to find Aoshi. Something was gnawing at Kenshin. Something that he couldn't name. But he knew that something was wrong. Something terrible was about to happen.

He felt his heart sink at the prospect of yet another danger his presence may have lured his friends into. He knew that when he told them of the situation, they were going to want to jump right in with him, and what could he really say to stop them? Sanosuke wasn't so much of a concern. He could fend for himself, Kenshin knew that. But what of Yahiko? And especially Kaoru-dono. He couldn't bear the thought of their lives being at stake yet again, after they had already gone through so much.

At that moment, voices drifted towards him and the sound of feet. He turned and gave them his best cheerful smile as the door slid open, revealing the still-fuming threesome.

"Want some water?" he asked hopefully, holding up the pitcher.

Kaoru said nothing as she took the pitcher from his hand and firmly led him out of the kitchen, pulling him by his good arm in a tight grasp. Sano and Yahiko flanked either side of him as they guided him to the sitting room, like guards leading a prisoner.

Pressing her hand against his shoulder, she made him sit down on a cushion and she took one across from him. Yahiko didn't sit, but stood behind Kaoru, his arms crossed over his chest. Sano sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall, folding his hands behind his head, as if to get comfortable.

All three were glaring at him. _This isn't going to be easy, that it won't._

"Nice try, escaping into the kitchen like that," said Yahiko, breaking the silence. "But you aren't going anywhere now. Not until you tell us the whole story."

x-x-x

Aoshi was like a shadow. He didn't move as he crouched in the shade of the overgrown trees that offered covering in the yellow sunlight of morning, allowing him a view of the mansion grounds. His eyes scanned the front of the building, mapping its interior in his mind, remembering every secret passageway he and Han'ya had discovered. At the thought of Han'ya, Aoshi felt a cold tugging at his thoughts, trying to occupy it with memories of the other three Oniwabbanshuu. But he quickly quelled them. He needed only to think of Misao.

But, oh how many times he had sat in this same spot with Beshimi, a quiet place to escape to, away from Kanryu's shifting eyes and maniacal giggling. Beshimi never spoke to him aloud when he was with the others, but when he and Aoshi would sit here on quiet nights, it was here where he would confess everything to his okashira. His troubles, his hopes, his agonies…all whispered in the confines of this protected refuge in the trees. Aoshi had always been willing to listen. He too understood what it meant to live in isolation, the need for someone to entrust your secrets to. He remembered those dark evenings on the battlements of Edo-

He abruptly shifted his feet and slipped through the foliage, closer towards the mansion, considering his best course. Where would have she have Misao hidden? He thought of the observatory, towering high above his head, where Megumi had been placed when she had attempted to murder Kanryu. He looked upwards and peered at the glass for any signs of movement, but he knew it was useless. He had no choice but to go inside.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Kenshin spoke slowly as he began to disentangle the story, part by part. He told them about the haiku, the mansion, and the arrow that had struck him. He didn't mention what Aoshi had told him about the apothecary or his reaction when he had seen the woman's face in the dark corridor. Somehow, that had to do with Aoshi in a way that Kenshin didn't feel the permission to tell.

"We have to find Misao!" said Kaoru when he had finished speaking, her blue eyes sparking. "We have to find her!"

Sano shook his head. "No, we can't."

"Why not?" she asked, whipping her head around to glare at him.

"Because that's what Aoshi is doing right now," he said, not moving from his lounging position against the wall. "Am I right, Kenshin?"

"This one doesn't know for certain. But it is most likely that he is."

"And he probably doesn't want our help. Am I right, Kenshin?"

Kenshin smiled slightly. "Probably not."

"But are we going to just sit here and wait to see what happens?" demanded Yahiko, gripping his bokken impatiently.

It was Sanosuke's turn to smile. "Probably not."

x-x-x

Aoshi slid his fingers underneath the metal lid, feeling it lift underneath his pull. The tiny hinges creaked shrilly with rust and age. He paused and looked around the clearing. The dense forest that surrounded him was still and quiet in the summer afternoon sun. Lowering himself onto the ladder, he slowly made his descent, raising one hand to move the lid of the entrance so that it covered most of the hole. When his feet touched the bottom, he looked up. A thick shaft of light penetrated the dank darkness of the tunnel.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he cursed himself for not thinking of bringing a lantern. He hadn't been thinking clearly when he had crept to the mansion early that morning. The dawn had just begun to break the clouds, and his only thought had been for Misao. But he had foolishly forgotten how dark the tunnel was.

He walked forward tentatively, testing the damp cobbled stones under his feet. Some were loose and they moved under his step, so he went on carefully, keeping one hand on the rough stone wall.

Again, memories. That dark night when he had stumbled through that same tunnel, the four heads of his dead comrades in his hands. He had slipped into the secret passage when he had been left alone, standing in the empty ballroom, the bullet-riddled bodies of those men in front of him. He remembered, with nausea, the sickening _thunk_ of his kodachi, severing their heads from their bodies. How he had staggered through the tunnel, an icy madness overcoming him, feeling only one desire: to kill the Battousai, the last of the Ishin Shishi.

Now, Aoshi paused and looked down at the floor, squinting in the gloom. The floor was speckled with dark red marks. Splattered blood that had dripped from the heads in his hands.

Taking a breath, he pressed on. Had he lost every sense of concentration? What of those endless days of meditation? Had they taught him nothing? He had thought to have conquered the discipline of the mind, the ability to focus. Yet, these last two days had shown him it had all been in vain. He could not keep his scattered thoughts at bay. They constantly tormented him, like the pricking of hot needles to his heart, recalling scars he had thought long healed.

At last, he came to the end of the tunnel that ran with evenly with the ground. Another ladder awaited him, he knew. He could barely make out the metal rungs in the shadows. The dim light from the mouth of the entrance did not reach this far.

Gripping it tightly, he began to climb the ladder, knowing that he was inside the walls of the house. The climb seemed incredibly long and dark, his kodachi sheath periodically clanging against metals rungs. He remembered when he had climbed down this ladder the last time, how his fingers had been slick with blood. He had nearly lost his balance once, had almost crashed down to the bottom, where his body would have been crushed against the jagged rock floor. Indeed, he remembered he had almost wished that he had had the nerve let go of the slippery rungs, to fall to the stones below. But for that one man he had so fiercely desired to kill.

He stopped abruptly when he saw the small door, inches away from his face. The rungs of the ladder ended. He reached out and pushed it forward slowly, blinking in the light that shone through. All was silent.

Crawling through the hole, he saw that the attic looked unchanged. Wooden crates and barrels lined the walls, some of them opened. He looked away from one group of barrels all labeled "Oil". Those had been Hyottoko's personal hoard. One lone window let in bright sunlight, which gave the room a sort of fraud cheerfulness, grating on Aoshi's nerves. He quietly kicked an empty crate away from his path as he went to the door and pressed his ear against it. Still silence.

With deliberate movements, he pushed the door open. Down the hall was the observatory. He listened for a moment, and the absolute silence that met his ears bade him to go forward. Taking careful steps, he made his way down the corridor, towards the observatory.

x-x-x

Misao sat on the stone floor, trying to find a comfortable position against the rough wall behind her. Her body felt stiff, but it was painful to walk or stand. The burn on her leg was getting worse. The blisters had grown larger and it stung with such intensity that she had a hard time thinking of much else.

_Think of escape. _She closed her eyes, focusing on the thought of escape. Perhaps if she thought about it long enough, she would think of something.

After a few moments of trying to concentrate, she opened her eyes and frowned at Soujioru irritably. He was walking up and down the in front of the gate, his hands folded behind his back, singing a song to himself over and over. His face was frozen into a delighted expression, a broad smile on his lips. He never blinked. He only stared at the floor as he paced, up and down, singing all the while.

_There's something wrong with that guy. _Misao thought as she watched him pass in front of the gate again. Suddenly, he stopped singing and was quiet as he leaned against the wall, fingering his wakizashi.

_Finally. _She closed her eyes again and tried to clear her mind, like she had seen Aoshi do at the temple. Just then, Soujirou began singing the song again and resumed his pacing.

"Hey!" she said loudly. He paused and looked at her questioningly, the smile never leaving his thin face. She noticed how sunken his cheeks looked and the dark circles under his eyes. "Could you stop that singing?"

In response, he laughed and began pacing, starting the song again with more gusto, watching her with amusement as she turned away from him with her face to the wall.

"Great," she muttered. "I'm stuck in a stone cell with a crazy guy as my guard. Just my luck." She shifted uncomfortably. "And I need to go."

The idea struck her like a lightning bolt. Why hadn't she thought of that before?

Struggling to her feet quickly in her excitement, she limped over to the gate and leaned on the bars.

"Hey, I gotta go!" she called, her voice echoing loudly down the hallway.

Soujirou stopped and stood in front of her, his nose inches away from hers. "Go? Go where?" he asked.

"As if you didn't know," she snorted. She raised her eyebrows knowingly.

"Ah. I see. There's a pot over there." He gestured to the battered bucket in the corner of the farthest corner of the room.

"A pot?! I'm not using any pot!"

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"But I really have to go," she insisted. "Maybe if the pot was in another room-"

"No. I'm not stupid, Misao-san," he said, his smile growing deeper. "But I am a gentleman and I'll go down the hall for a moment." He gave her a short, mocking bow and turned away, strolling down the corridor, humming that irritating song as he went.

She kicked at the gate angrily, then grimaced when she realized she had done it with her bad leg. Getting out of from behind this gate, even for a few seconds, would have been more than enough time to get herself out of there. She would have knocked him on the side of the head, then a kendo kick to the face. And then-

"How long is this going to take, Misao-san?" Soujirou called from down the hall.

Grinding her teeth, she limped over to the bucket and stared at it. She really _did _have to go. Bad. And the creepy guy was out of sight, for the moment.

_Guess I have no choice. _

x-x-x

Takara knew he was in the mansion. She could almost feel the moment he touched its walls.

Turning from the window overlooking the front lawn, she went down the halls, and down many steps that led to the basement. Though it was mostly covered in darkness, she had no trouble in swiftly navigating her way through the twisting corridors. Dark rooms were on either side of her, some of them still filled with their wares. Tools, boxes of dynamite, crates full of bullets. One had a broken gatling gun.

She slowed her pace when she neared the wooden door that led to the hallway where the girl was kept. It was quiet on the other side.

She wrapped her gloved fingers around the handle and jerked it forward. Soujirou was standing in front of her. He blinked in surprise.

"Soujirou," she snapped. "What are you doing?"

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, grinning like a fool. "Well, she said she had to go."

Glaring at him in distaste, Takara shoved past him. He scurried behind her, nearly stepping on her cape.

When Takara neared the gate, she saw Misao limping away from the pot in the corner, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She tried to meet Takara's eyes, but looked at the floor when she saw the taunting smile on her face.

"Soujirou, take the girl to the ballroom. But do it quietly, and make sure she is silent." Misao lifted her head, defiance already flashing in her eyes. Takara met her gaze squarely, narrowing her eyes warningly. "Or there will be hell to pay," she whispered.

She ignored Misao's angry stammering as she turned and walked back down the hall, her fingers quivering in anticipation, a sly smile on her pale lips.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9-

Misao cringed as she felt Soujirou's clammy hand touch her arm, guiding her through the darkness of the mansion. She could make faint outlines of light from the heavily curtained windows, which were drawn to keep out the sunlight. So she squinted in what scarce candlelight a few sconces on the wall provided. She kept her eyes on her feet, taking each step with hesitantly, unsure when they would end. Her leg stung all the more, the pain reaching up through her thigh. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.

When she stumbled over the last step, he gripped her wrist and pressed his other hand in the small of her back to steady her. She angrily jerked away.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, stepping out of his reach.

He merely shrugged and prodded her bottom with the hilt of his wakizashi.

"Don't do that either!" she screamed, throwing a punch at him. He dodged it easily, making her even more infuriated.

"She doesn't like to be kept waiting," he said, grinning at her complacently. "Ladies first." He motioned towards the huge wooden doors to their right. Yellow light shone from within. In the glint of that light, Misao could make out the words in scrolling English letters engraved on the gold plate above: _Ballroom_.

As Misao pushed through the doors, cold dread settled in her stomach. Takara stood in the center of the ballroom, a long bow in her hand, her hood still drawn up around her face. The bow had sharp blades placed on either end that glinted in the bright yellow light. A quiver of arrows lay beside her feet.

"Stand against the wall," the woman ordered.

Blinking at the vivid light, Misao could see the pocked wall, as if it had been riddled with bullets. The floor was splattered with dried rusty red blood. She stared at it, then at Takara, her eyes wide.

"Go!" the woman barked, her voice echoing sharply in the large room.

Stepping to avoid the bloodstains, Misao walked towards the wall, feeling nauseous as icy fear crept up her spine. Turning away from the black bullet holes, she stood, facing Takara, her heart thumping sickeningly in her ears.

The woman stared at her a moment, squinting, as if the light hurt her eyes. Then she put her bow on the floor and reached into her cloak, taking out a small leather pouch. She opened it and poured a fine dust into her bare hands, rubbing the dust in between her fingers.

"You want some?" She turned to Soujirou, smiling mockingly. He cringed and shook his head. "I know you dislike how I rub bone dust on my fingers before I shoot, but…" She looked towards Misao. "Accuracy is vital."

Shoving the pouch into Soujirou's hands, Takara picked up her bow. Then, slowly, she bent over her quiver of arrows, her fingers hovering over them, as if she couldn't decide which to choose. Her hand closed around a thin red arrow and she notched into her bow, drawing the string back, aiming for Misao's head.

Misao bit her lip, trying not to scream as the arrow whistled through the air and brushed against her right temple, leaving a burning welt on her skin, before landing with a _thunk! _ into the wall. Another arrow. And another. Too fast for her to see. _Thunk! Thunk!_

Two arrows quivered in the wall on either side of her arms. She was pressed against the wall, her back rigid, sweat dripping down her cheeks. She turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut as she saw Takara slowly raise the bow again.

"Now for the test," she heard the woman whisper.

The bowstring twanged. Misao screamed.

Aoshi's head whipped up as he heard the scream, echoing through out the mansion. _Misao!_

His long legs pumping, he tore down the stairs, taking two at a time. It had come from the ballroom, of that he was certain. What other room would make the cry reverberate so loudly? As he neared the doors, he didn't break his stride. He unsheathed his kodachi as he burst through the huge white doors, stumbling into the brightness of the room.

Misao lay crumpled on the floor, her face pale. Soujirou stood over her, his fingers clutching the shaft of the arrow that was buried deep into her leg. He yanked it out with a quick jerk and Misao let out long groan, tears pouring down her cheeks. Strings of red muscle trailed from the wound. Her head lolled back, her eyes showing white.

"Get away from her!" With a cry, Aoshi charged at Soujirou, swinging his kodachi. The young man turned, his face full of deep intense hatred as he drew his wakizashi. Flying through the air, aiming for his chest, Aoshi thrust the kodachi forward, preparing to rip out his heart.

He gasped as the air was knocked out of his chest. He looked up in surprise, his eyes inches from Soujirou's. Soujirou had his kodachi in a sword lock, his wakizashi woven in between them to keep them from moving. His eyes burned into Aoshi's, his lips pulled back into a snarl.

"You have escaped death many times, Shinomori Aoshi," Soujirou spat. "But it will be I who will finally take your life." He moved his mouth close to Aoshi's ear, his whispered words hot against his cheek. "Wait for me."

Shoving Aoshi back out of the lock, Soujirou's face transformed into his characteristic expression of amusement, his lips curved into a small grin. Aoshi stepped backwards, his gaze trained on Soujirou. But the young man turned and walked away, his wakizashi resting on his shoulder.

When Aoshi looked towards Misao, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. She lay sprawled across the marble floor, lying deathly still, her breath coming in short gasps. Blood trickled from the wound, making a small puddle. He kneeled beside her fallen form, pressing his fingers on her wrist. Her pulse was fast, beating furiously and hard. He put a hand on her forehead and felt her skin cool and clammy underneath his touch. Her lips were tinged blue and her breathing became more irregular, as if she were struggling to take air into her lungs. Her body began to convulse, jerking violently against the cold floor.

Beginning to panic, Aoshi shifted his arms under her neck, trying to keep her head from striking the ground. He felt completely helpless, at a loss. He didn't know what to do. He looked toward Soujirou, but he didn't seem to notice.

At that moment, a small clay cup was thrust in front of his face.

"I need to give her this," Takara said from beside him, her pale green eyes meeting his. "But put her in a sitting position first."

Even in his surprise and alarm, Aoshi obeyed, using his arms to support her until she was resting against them, her head tilted upwards. Takara put the cup to Misao's lips and gently poured it into her mouth, using her fingers to push it down her throat.

In a few moments, Misao's body stilled and became calm. Her breath became more and more even, her pulse slowing to a steady pace.

Aoshi let out a long breath. He looked at Takara, bewildered. She didn't meet his gaze as she stood, turning her back from him.

"Go now," she said quietly. "I've seen what I needed to see."

Picking Misao up in his arms, he found his voice returning to him. "And what was that?" he said sharply, standing in front of her. "You wanted to see her killed?"

"No," she said, her voice catching slightly. "I wanted to see you, coming to rescue her."

"Rescue her?" he choked out. "What did you expect?"  
Shrugging slightly, she looked away from him, at the quiver of arrows on the ground. "When I knew you before…you would have never done something like that."

He stared at her with hard eyes. "Then you didn't know me well," he said in a low voice as he turned to leave.

_"I remember you as you once were, Aoshi!" she called. "You were committed to your comrades. But you would have never done anything so stupid as to run into a room where your enemy lay in wait for you…except if I was in danger." _

_Aoshi stopped in his steps._

_"That night," she went on insistently. "When the Ikazuchiryu attacked-"_

_"That was a deadly mistake," he said, not turning around. "I should not have left my station behind to find you."_

_"But you-  
"Enough!" he barked sharply as he turned around. "I made a vow to her father to keep her from harm!" he said, his voice rising angrily_.

"Aoshi, please!" she cried. In the light, her eyes seemed to glint with tears that she angrily blinked away. "I never meant to hurt you!"

He was silent for a moment, staring at her pale face, remembering the beauty he had once seen there. The sparkle in her large jade green eyes, the mischievous laughter from her thin lips. Although she may not have seemed beautiful to others, there was something about her that had made him see her differently. And in the light of the ballroom, it seemed to return for a moment. She looked almost like a lost little girl, her eyes full of tears, looking to him for guidance.

_Like Misao. _

He looked down into the pained face of the girl in his arms. She was the one he looked after. She trusted him, with a trust so ardent, it almost put him to shame. He had left Takara's trust behind long ago.

He felt Takara's eyes on him, and when he lifted his gaze, her face had transformed. She glared at him with intense loathing, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes glittering.

"Get out!" she screamed hoarsely, raising her bow.

He took a step back towards the door.

"Put the girl down." She lowered the arrow notched in her bow so that it was aimed straight for Misao's chest. "Or I shoot her now."

Holding her tighter, he took another step back.

"Aoshi!" she shouted. "I _will_ shoot her!"

Another step back. He grunted as the square hilt of a sword hit the back of his head, making his knees buckle. Dazed, feeling blood drip down his neck, he turned his head to see Soujirou standing over him, a smile on his face, the hilt of his wakizashi poised above his head.

Then total blackness.

_The cold wind whistled past his ears, flapping his long scarf behind his shoulders. He tugged at the material around his neck and pulled it over his nose and mouth, feeling his hot breath buffet against it. In the dark land that stretched out in front of him, there was no movement, no sound. Only the howling wind, screeching like a demon. Like the ghosts that haunted his dreams._

_Shivering, he gathered his cloak closer around him and looked up at the glowing moon, which cast an eerie pale light over the valley below him. It stared down at him from its solitary place in the sky, glaring at him, unblinking._

_"This is not the hour of your watch."_

_He turned at the sound of the voice behind him. Takara moved from the shadows of the battlements on which he stood, gathering her dark hood over her long black hair as the biting wind whipped past them. Her eyes glowed a soft jade green in the bright moonlight as she studied him._

_"Your eyes are troubled," she said softly. _

_"Couldn't sleep." He looked back out over the valley, scanning the barren trees, pushing back the hair that thrashed about his face. _

_They were both silent as the wind kicked up around them, shaking the empty branches below them until it sounded like the clamor of gnashing teeth. Takara shuddered beside him, stepping closer so that their arms touched. _

_"Shikijou said that you killed the four spies," she whispered. "You came upon them from the roof and slit their throats before they had time to scream."_

_He said nothing, not moving or looking at her as he remembered. The red spurting blood, the sound of their bodies hitting the floor, their faces frozen in terror. _

_"You dream of them, don't you?" _

_He looked down at her in surprise, his gaze meeting hers._

_"It's their ghosts that visit you your nightmares. That is why you cannot sleep."_

_Turning away, he closed his eyes, seeing their pale opaque faces, hearing the screams they never had a chance to utter. _

_"They torment me," he whispered. "They wait until I sleep, so that they may torture me for what I have done to them." He took a deep breath. "I see their faces, Takara. Every night, they stand before me, the faces of every man I have slain with my hands." He looked down at his hands, his calloused fingers, the worn leather guards over his palms. "And I will kill many more. Many more faces shall wander through my dreams, while I stand alone in the darkness." _

_He lowered his head, feeling ashamed of his words that sounded so pitiful to his ears. Staring at his outstretched palms, he watched as she slid a small gloved hand into his._

_ "No, Aoshi. Not alone."_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10-

"Thought he could leave me behind," Kaoru fumed quietly as she walked. In the beginning of the evening shadows, the streets of Tokyo were becoming quiet, stalls closing for the night, men walking home from their work, tofu buckets perched over their shoulders to bring for the evening meal. "What a jerk."

Stalking beside her, Yahiko rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, busu. You've been griping ever since we left the dojo."

She shot him an annoyed look. "I should have tied you up and left you there."

"I would have liked to see you try."

Sensing a challenge in his voice, she ignored him, holding her head high as she lengthened her brisk steps. He trotted beside her, keeping her quick pace easily.

"Hey, don't get upset about it," he said, taking her arm as he led her onto a road to their right. "Kenshin only wants to do what is best for you."

She shook her head abruptly, clenching her teeth. "But I _hate_ being left behind."

"Well, we're following them, aren't we?" he said, then added with a smirk, "And a good thing you took me along with you. 'Cause I know the way to the mansion and you don't."

"Please, Yahiko. If you don't want to be in pain, then shut up now."

i-i-i

Kenshin stood at the edge of the mansion grounds, his violet eyes missing nothing in the gathering dusk. Sano crouched behind a tree a few feet away from him, his face turned towards the mansion.

The huge ornate house stood silent and still. They had been standing here the past thirty minutes, just watching and waiting. But not a sound came from the mansion or the trees surrounding it.

Sanosuke stirred and shifted his feet, meeting Kenshin's glance. Kenshin crept over to him, stepping lightly so that his feet wouldn't make a sound on the damp ground, still wet from the yesterday's rain.

"I haven't seen a thing in those windows," Sano said softly. "And the mansion almost looks deserted."

"They're still there," Kenshin whispered, not taking his eyes from the building.

Sano shifted his feet again, impatiently this time. "So what should we do? My legs are getting numb from squatting here for so long."

Kenshin leaned closer to Sano. "We are going to-"

At that moment, there were footsteps. Loud, crunching footsteps, coming from behind them, from the entrance of the mansion grounds. Kenshin and Sanosuke ducked behind the thick tree as they got louder.

"Oro?" Kenshin couldn't keep it from passing from his lips at the sight of the two figures that emerged into their view.

"Don't they know the meaning of stealth?" Sanosuke growled when he saw them. "And what the heck are they doing here?"

Kaoru looked towards the mansion, a wondering look on her face as she started walking down the worn path, her face upturned to look at the high windows. Yahiko grabbed her arm and yanked her into the shade of a tree off the path, only a few feet away from where Kenshin and Sano sat.

"Geez, Kaoru!" Yahiko hissed loudly. "You can't just step into the open like that!"

Jerking her arm out of his grasp, she shot him an irritated look. "And you keep your voice down," she whispered back.

Kenshin and Sano exchanged glances. The rurouni sighed and nodded.

"Hey, guys!" Sanosuke called softly, beckoning with his hand. "Guys, over here!"

Kaoru and Yahiko whirled around, Yahiko's hand going to his bokken. When Kaoru saw Kenshin, her cheeks flushed and she looked down at the ground as she crept towards them, her back hunched in an attempt to sneak quietly. Kenshin couldn't help but grimace at Kaoru's stumbling through the dead, wet brush. Yahiko stepped nimbly, his pickpocket days remembered as he made little noise under his feet.

"What were you thinking, you midget," Sano demanded, pounding a berating fist on Yahiko's head.

"It wasn't me!" Yahiko snapped. He pointed his finger at Kaoru. "It was her idea!"

Kaoru opened her mouth to speak, but a sound made them all freeze. A low, childish laugh.

Kenshin turned his head. Soujirou stood looking down at him, his wakizashi slung over his shoulder, gazing at the group with a smile on his face.

"Well. This is interesting," he said brightly.

Sano jumped up, his fists clenched. Yahiko steadied his bokken in front of him, glaring darkly. Kenshin stood slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the young man in front of him.

"Himura-san," said Soujirou, bowing slightly. "A pleasure to meet you again. And with your entourage." He bowed to Kaoru and Yahiko individually. "I don't believe we have met."

They both stared at him, confusion lighting their faces. Yahiko lowered his bokken uncertainly.

"It seems that I have met many of your friends these past few days, Himura-san," Soujriou went on, not seeming to notice the strained surprise in the group. Only Kenshin was unperturbed as he watched Soujirou closely. "In fact, one is out lying unconscious on the lawn at this moment."

Kenshin could feel everyone's anxious eyes on him, but he said nothing.

"You and your friends may walk about the lawn if you wish," Soujirou said airily, waving his hand to gesture at the mansion grounds. "There is no one waiting to attack, I promise you. I, in the meantime, have some business to attend to. You will have to excuse me." Again, he bowed, then turned and walked towards the mansion, swinging his arms casually by his sides.

They were all quiet for a moment, watching as Soujirou walked through the enormous mansion doors that shut with a muffled bang.

They were all quiet for a moment. Sanosuke glanced at Kenshin.

"Do we believe him?" he asked.

"We have no choice, that we don't," Kenshin said softly. He turned to look at the others. "Everyone keeps close. We'll circle the grounds, but stay on your guard. This one and Sano will go ahead."

Without another word, he turned and walked quickly across the grass, Sano striding beside him, steeling himself for whatever he might find.

i-i-i

Yahiko kept beside Kaoru, itching to run up beside Sano and Kenshin as they went quickly ahead. Kaoru was watching her feet as she walked, her mind obviously far from the present. Yahiko tapped her on the head with his bokken.

"Hey," he said. "Keep alert. I didn't trust that freakboy about us not being attacked."

She looked up at him and nodded. "I don't either. He gave me the creeps." She shuddered slightly and slid her bokken into her hands, looking around at the surrounding foliage. "An ambush could hide easily in these trees."

Yahiko could see her nervousness as she stared suspiciously at the branches above, her head turned away from him. He grinned to himself as he allowed her to walk ahead of him. Then slowly, he crept closer until he was directly behind her.

"Boo!" he whispered, jumping close to her ear.

She let out a strangled shriek, turning around to bash him on the head. He parried her block easily, trying to muffle the sound of his laughter.

"Yahiko!" she whispered furiously. "That was not funny!"

"I'm sorry!" he choked. "I couldn't help myself!" He doubled over, still laughing, his sides beginning to ache with trying to keep it so quiet.

"Yahiko…" Kaoru's voice was suddenly troubled.

He looked up at her, his merriment fading. He turned his head, looking in the direction she was looking. Sanosuke and Kenshin stood still, their heads bowed, their backs turned to them. On the ground was a long body in a white coat.

i-i-i

Aoshi lay on his stomach, sprawled across the grass, his hair matted with blood. Kenshin quietly kneeled down beside him and lightly touched the wound on the back of his head. It wasn't very deep, as if he had been hit with a blunt object, mean to knock him unconscious.

Sanosuke knelt down beside him. "This isn't looking good," he said, shaking his head.

Kenshin nodded. "We should take him to Megumi-dono's, that we should."

He heard Yahiko and Kaoru rush up behind him. "Is he dead?" Yahiko asked breathlessly.

"Only unconscious," he replied, carefully slipping his arm under Aoshi's neck. Sano took up Aoshi's arm, slowly hauling him up. "Yahiko, you run ahead and tell Megumi-dono that we need her help. We won't be able to take him to her clinic, so she'll have to meet us here, outside of the mansion grounds." Kenshin glanced at Kaoru. "Perhaps you should go as well, Kaoru-dono. Describe the wound to her and remember to bring a stretcher back with you."

"Right," Yahiko said, taking off running towards the gates. Kaoru paused for a moment, looking sheepishly at Kenshin.

"Kenshin?" she said, a blush blooming around her cheeks. "I'm sorry I came."

Despite his anxiety, he smiled at her, his eyes softening. "This one will always be glad when you chase after him."

Kaoru smiled back and ducked her head. Then she turned away, running quickly after Yahiko, calling for him to wait up.

"Please," Sano muttered. "You guys are so pathetic."

i-i-i

Images, sounds, thoughts, swirling in his head, like a whirlwind that won't let him go, flinging him across a dark oblivion. He was trapped in a fevered dream, a prison in his own mind. He thrust himself against the cage of his unconsciousness, desperate to escape. But the memories caught them in their grip once more, wrenching him back into the whirlwind…

_He raced down the dark wooden corridor, leaping nimbly over the bodies that littered the bamboo floor. He heard the guttural cries and the clanging of swords coming from the main residences. The enemy had breached the main walls and had made its way into the depths of the castle within a few hours. Why hadn't Shoichi kept a closer watch? It had been his station tonight, along with his group of men. They were supposed to patrol all the inner gates and walls. How could have the enemy come from the western entrance? They must have come across the Sumida River and-_

_"Aoshi-sama!"_

_He skidded to halt in the corridor and turned to see Daijuro running towards him, pale and breathless. The young Oniwabban stopped in front of him and bowed quickly._

_"Aoshi-sama, enemy reinforcements have breached the main gates and are making their way towards the inner residences."_

_"Who was stationed there?" _

_"Yasuo was, but-"_

_There was a shrill battle cry from down the corridor. Takara's voice stood out above the din, shouting orders to her men to retaliate. Aoshi turned and listened. She never raised her voice in battle. Only if the situation was desperate would she cry out. _

_"Aoshi-sama, what should we do?"_

_He looked at Daijuro. "Go find-"_

_There was a loud cheer. Aoshi took a step down the corridor, listening closely. The sound of the battle from the inner rooms was louder. Takara's voice shot out abruptly in a sharp cry of pain. _

_Aoshi darted down the hall, ignoring Daijuro's confused calls behind him. He had only one thought. _

_Takara.  
_

_When he got to the end of the hall, he stopped before turning the corner to enter the inner rooms, waiting and listening closely, preparing himself for an attack. He took a step closer, pressing himself against the shadowed wall, a dim yellow light streaming from the rooms, burning dully from a lantern. Bodies lay at his feet and he forced himself to gaze upon the frozen faces of the dead Oniwabbanshu that blocked the entrance. Their blank expressions seemed to beg him to avenge their deaths. A sudden dark anger, like a rushing cold wind overpowered him, making his blood sing. He gripped his kodachi even harder in his hand until it ached. _

_Takara cried out once more. _

_With a loud roar, he sprang into the room, sweeping his blade into the Kaiten Kenbu. His mind was callous to the men that fell dead at his hands. He felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing except for Takara, fighting one-on-one with a tall man in black, a lightning bolt insignia sewn across his back, an officer in the Ikazuchiryu. The men in Aoshi's way were merely obstacles, waiting to be cut down. _

_She was bleeding heavily from her left arm, which hung useless at her side. She was parrying each blow the man thrust on her, but her movements were sluggish, desperate. Aoshi could see the growing fear in her eyes as the man advanced, forcing her into the corner of the room. The Ikazuchiryu officer was grunting with exertion, each blow becoming more and more powerful as he saw his victory nearing. _

_Takara's katana fell to the floor as the man flicked the blade from her bloodied hand. She was pressed into the shadowed corner, cowering as he lifted his blade high above his head, ready to deliver the final deathblow. _

_Aoshi swung his kodachi in an arc, slashing it across the man's back. The officer shouted in surprise and pain as he whirled around to face Aoshi, leveling his katana at him. They circled each other, Aoshi burning with the fury that enveloped him, threatening to drive him to insanity. He blinked and in a swift motion, he cut the man's right hand off, the blade with it to the floor. The man crumpled to his knees, cradling his bleeding arm. With a low snarl, Aoshi struck him with the hilt of his kodachi so that the man lay sprawled across the bamboo boards._

_Aoshi's breathing was ragged as he stood above the trembling, weeping man at his feet. He stared at him, poising the kodachi above the man's neck._

_"Please," the man whimpered, tears streaming down his bloodied cheeks. "Please, don't! I didn't want to join the Ikazuchiryu! Kisho forced our village to join him, or he would have killed us all! I have a wife and children," the man babbled, pleading in his eyes. "Please, don't kill me, don't kill me…" He sobbed violently, letting his head sink down to the floor._

_Unblinking, Aoshi lifted the kodachi once more, bracing his arms for the blow. _

_"No!"_

_He paused, looking at Takara. She was on her knees, still huddled into the corner. Her eyes were stricken as she stared up at him. "No, Aoshi! Don't kill him!"_

_He looked back down at the man. He lay still now, breathing heavily, his body tense, as if waiting for the blade to come on him. _

_"Please, Aoshi!" _

_Again, he lifted the kodachi._

_"Aoshi!" _

_Takara flung herself over the man on the floor, holding up her left arm weakly, shielding him. "Aoshi! Please, have mercy! Spare him! Please! Listen to him! It wasn't his fault!"_

_She looked at him beseechingly, blood and sweat running down her flushed cheeks._

_"What would you have me do?" Aoshi's voice was hoarse as if from disuse._

_"Take him prisoner!" she insisted, her green eyes hazed with pain. "Please, I beg you! Have mercy!"_

_"Why should I?" he growled. _

_"Because I ask it!"_

_Aoshi stared at her. This man had tried to kill her and now she wanted his life to be spared, just because she heard this man's pleading chatter? Aoshi had heard it so many times before, a man's last cries for mercy were no more than incoherent sounds to his ears. _

_Slowly, Aoshi pressed the sharp edge of the blade against the man's neck. _

_"This man deserves to die," he said slowly. "But-"_

_There was a loud cry from behind him. He turned and saw Daijuro standing in the doorway, staring at him in horror. Other Oniwabbanshu stood behind him, their faces frozen in identical looks of shock. _

_"Aoshi-sama…" Daijuro whispered. "What have you done?"_

_Aoshi looked around the darkened room. Bodies lay scattered across the floor. Some bore the marks of the Ikazuchiryu, but most of them were of the Oniwabbanshu. _

_He had killed them all…_

i-i-i

Aoshi could feel a cool breeze on his cheeks, could begin to feel the light burning in his eyes. He struggled to open them, feeling nauseated and dizzy. His head was burning, pounding with unspeakable pain. Where was he? He could feel hands on his body, holding him.

"Get off," he rasped, trying to wrench his arms free. The hands held on tighter. He struggled harder, clenching his teeth as a sudden panic hit him. His eyes shot open, but his vision was blurred as he tried to kick at his captors. Adrenaline rushed through his blood as he swung a clenched fist upward. There was a grunt and one of the hands loosened. He tried to yank himself free, but to no avail.

"Aoshi."

He froze for a moment, recognizing the tranquil voice. It cut through his fevered mind like a cold wind, bringing him back to reality. He blinked, the haze diminishing from his eyes.

"Aoshi, be still. Help is coming, that it is."

The panic surged into anger as everything hit him. The ballroom, Misao, Takara, Soujirou…

He yanked himself free from Kenshin's small hands, but was still held by another's. He turned and saw Sagara Sanosuke holding his other shoulder, glaring at him coldly.

"Hey, knock it off," Sanosuke growled. "We're just trying to help you-"

"Get away from me!" Aoshi snarled, flinging Sanosuke's arms away, reeling backwards. His legs trembled beneath him and his chest was tight, making it hard to breathe. He turned away from them, staggering forward, with no sense of direction. His head throbbed unbearably, making his stomach churn with the pain and dizziness. Feeling bile rise into the back of his throat, he swallowed it down, the acid stinging his tongue.

Breathing heavily, he sagged against a tree trunk, staring up at the looming white mansion walls. He could feel their challenge, mocking him in his pathetic plight, daring him to try again.

_Is this about Misao anymore? _a small voice whispered inside of him. _Or has Takara captured you in her spell yet again?_

He grimaced at the thought and stood up straighter. A shadow moved in one of the high windows. A hooded shadow.

"Takara…" He spoke in a low moan, slumping with dejection as a delirious despair settled upon him, bringing the whirlwind with it. It swirled furiously in his mind, trying to pry him loose from his sanity.

Feeling weary, he simply let himself slip away and the void of the black whirlwind swallowed him once again.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11-

Misao coughed and spluttered as water was poured down her throat. She shivered uncontrollably, laying curled up into the corner, cowering as Takara forced the bowl to her trembling lips.

"Again," Takara commanded, shoving the bowl closer so that it knocked against her chattering teeth.

Misao did her best to obey, struggling to calm her uneven breathing. But again, she choked, and the coughs racked her lungs painfully. Letting out a short groan, she leaned into the corner of the wall, turning her head away, closing her eyes against the pain that seared her body, making it burn like fire.

The wound on her leg had ceased to bleed, but it was caked in dried blood and pus. The arrow had pierced the blistered burn and it was already becoming infected. Her calf was unnaturally swollen and hot to the touch. Her entire body raged with fever, but she felt so cold.

Why hadn't Aoshi come to save her? She had heard him shouting…in the ballroom…he had come. But where was he now? Why hadn't he taken her with him? Why had he forgotten her?

Letting the tears slip quietly down her flushed cheeks, she buried her head in her shoulder.

i-i-i

_"What are they saying, Daijuro?"_

_The young Oniwabban shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Aoshi's eyes as he toyed with a piece of leather in his hands. He was quiet, twirling the leather in between his long fingers as he leaned against the wall, facing the valley. _

_"Daijuro." Aoshi glanced around him. The walls were under his patrol tonight and majority of the division was out of sight, always keeping sharp eyes looking out across the valley. "Tell me."_

_Sighing, Daijuro threw the leather down. "There are whispers…" He hesitated._

_"Go on."_

_"There are whispers…about you and Takara-kun."_

_Aoshi held his breath, keeping his composure stony._

_"They say that…she has clouded your judgement. They say that on the night the Ikazuchiryu attacked…when you allowed the officer to live…" Daijuro stopped and bit his lip, still looking at the ground._

_"And now the officer has escaped," Aoshi finished tonelessly. "They think I should have killed him."_

_Daijuro nodded. "They say it was Takara-kun that stayed your hand."_

_Aoshi didn't say anything as he turned and looked out over the valley. The air was _

_tingling with the promise of snow tonight, bringing a sharp stinging air with it. Tugging his cloak closer around his shoulders, he turned to Daijuro. _

_"Is there anything else?"_

_"They say…some say…that…" He took a deep breath. "Some say that you are not fit to be okashira."_

_Aoshi studied Daijuro closely. "And what do you say?"_

_Daijuro finally lifted his head, meeting Aoshi's steady gaze with desperate eyes. "I don't know what to think, Aoshi-sama. All I know is, the men are starting to grow restless and suspicious. Ten Oniwabban lay buried in the valley…and they weren't killed by enemy hands. They were killed by yours."_

_Aoshi closed his eyes momentarily, pushing away the images of their dead faces, their blood pooling on the bamboo floor. _

_Daijuro took a step towards him, lowering his voice into a whisper. "You _have_ become different, Aoshi-sama. When you see Takara-kun…it's as if the rest of the world fades away. She holds you under her spell. And the okashira of the Oniwabban can be enslaved to no one."_

_They were both silent for a moment, the whipping wind blowing around them in a sudden furious gust. Aoshi's breath puffed in front of his face. "You've done well, Daijuro," he said, turning away. _

_"Aoshi-sama, please forgive me if-" The Oniwabban's voice was pleading._

_"There is nothing to forgive." He stopped and looked at Daijuro. "You have done what I asked and there is no more to say."_

_Nodding to the night officer taking his watch, Aoshi turned to make his way to his sleeping quarters, dreading another sleepless night, full of the ghosts that haunted his dreams. _

i-i-i

Kenshin watched as Aoshi stirred and murmured incoherent words as he lay face down on the cot. His head was turned towards Kenshin, his cheek pressed against the soft material that covered the narrow cot that seemed to small for his long body. His expression was troubled, and his hands twitched from time to time.

Megumi stood over Aoshi, gently pouring warm cloudy water over the wound on the back of his head. Taking a cloth, she carefully dabbed at it, her forehead furrowed in concentration.

Watching her silently, let Kenshin let his head lean against the wall and he tried to make his body relax. His shoulders and back ached from being tense for so long. He had helped Sano carry Aoshi on the stretcher to Megumi's clinic. They had gone the long way round, avoiding any main roads, until they had arrived at her doorstep. Kaoru and Yahiko had gone to the dojo long before. Sano sat leaning against the wall, his long legs sprawled in front of him, his head falling to his chest as he began to snore softly.

Megumi was readying a sharp needle and thread, pulling the thread through the eye expertly in the pale yellow light of the lantern that hung from the ceiling. Kenshin knew his eyes were wide as she bent over Aoshi and began to slide the needle under his skin, making small stitches to close the wound.

He tried to make himself watch the procedure, forcing his eyes to follow the movement of the needle, but he ended up turning his head away, staring at the ground to hide the grimace on his face.

"What is it?" he heard Megumi murmur.

"Um…nothing," he said with an embarrassed chuckle. "This one does not mind swords, but needles are an entirely different matter."

She laughed softly. "I was wondering why you were looking so pale."

He smiled in spite of himself. "This one will make you miso soup when we get back to the dojo, if you like," he said, changing the subject. "You have done much for us in the past two days, that you have."

She was silent for a moment. "I will tell you, Ken-san, that keeping you and your friends alive is not an easy job. Add some hot tea to that soup offer, and I _might_ forgive you for walking around with a healing poison wound when you're _supposed_ to be taking it easy."

Kenshin's smile widened. "Then tea you shall have."

i-i-i

Black darkness met Aoshi's eyes. He blinked several times, but the blackness remained. His head throbbed with crushing pain, like someone was bashing a club across his skull. He was lying down, a thick blanket covering him. All was totally silent.

Slowly, he turned his head, wincing as he did so. Faint white light shone through an opening in the room and outlined the shadow leaning the wall. Aoshi felt his heart begin to beat furiously, matching the pounding rhythm in his head. He felt for his kodachi, but his belt was empty.

The shadow moved towards him, and Aoshi tried to sit up, but fell back dizzily, colored splotches blinding his vision. The shadow knelt down beside him and Aoshi swung a clenched fist upward, fighting the panic that was rising in his chest.

The shadow's hand caught his wrist in an easy grip. "Aoshi." The shadow had Battousai's quiet voice. "You are safe here, Aoshi. There is nothing to fear."

Aoshi blinked again, this time with weariness. But he didn't want to go back. Back into the whirlwind, where he knew his memories lay in wait for him, ready to tear into his heart once again.

"I don't want to remember," he whispered to himself as he felt the weight of heavy sleep come upon him. He felt his body relaxing, his eyes slowly closing. "I don't want to remember…"

Deep blackness settled over him once again and he remembered.

i-i-i

_"You've been avoiding me, Aoshi," Takara's soft voice said behind him._

_He didn't turn to her as he stood at the wall, looking across Edo bay. The surf crashed below him, unseen in the deep darkness that covered the night. Thick clouds, again heavy with snow, covered the moon's beams that would have been shining, but were smothered by the heavy weight of the night. _

_She moved up beside him quietly, gathering her cloak close to her body. They were both still and silent, watching the blackness that yawned out before them for miles._

_"Did you dream again?" _

_He didn't meet her questioning gaze. "Yes."_

_They were quiet again, the wind whipping between them. _

_"Were they of the Oniwabbanshu?"_

_"Yes." He looked down at her squarely, his expression cold. "Yes, Takara, the faces that visited me were of the Oniwabbanshu that I had slain with my own hands. The pale faces of my comrades, my men, staring at me accusingly, screaming for my death in their thin voices. That was who visited my dreams tonight."_

_He turned his eyes back towards the sea, hating the hurt and concern that lit her gaze. _

_"I'm sorry," was her faint whispered reply. He winced, hearing the beginning of tears in her voice, forcing his heart to be callous against it, though it rent him in two. _

_"People are whispering, Takara."_

_She lowered her head, reaching out to touch the thin layer of snow that encrusted the walls. Her fingers traced a swirling pattern on the ice. _

_"They say that you hinder my judgment and my leadership."_

_Her hand stopped._

_"Some are saying that I am unfit to be okashira. I let a man live, and now he has escaped. Because you stopped me from killing him."_

_She was silent beside him, her head still bent low. _

_"Why?" He looked down at her again, his voice sharp. "Why, Takara?"_

_"Why what?" she whispered._

_"Why did you stop me?" _

_"I…I don't know."_

_"Don't you dare lie to me." He turned his body towards her so that he was facing her. She looked up at him slowly, her eyes moist with tears. "Why?"_

_She bit her pale trembling lips and turned her head away. "He…he said he had a wife and children."_

_"What does it matter? Many men that you and I have killed had wives and children."_

_"But hearing him say that…" She sighed, tears choking her voice. "I never used to care. The last words of a man who is going to die are always desperate and I never paid any heed to them. But when he said he had a wife and children…and I saw you…I wondered what it would be like…" Pausing, she hugged her arms around her and looked up into his hard eyes. "I thought of his wife…what she would feel when she found out that he was dead. And I thought of…what I would feel…if you died." _

_He stared at her for a long moment, the frigid wind beating against them, biting his skin with the cold. She held his gaze, letting tears roll down her cheeks. _

_"Listen," he said at last, his voice low. He leaned close to her. "There is nothing between us. There can never be anything between us. I never wanted anything between us. Do you understand? Nothing." His voice was quiet and harsh, tinged with the strange icy anger that had gripped him. He knew it was hurting her. He could see the pain in her face. "I am the okashira of the Oniwabbanshu. And I will be enslaved to no one."_

_Daijuro's words rang through his mind as he took a step back, the bitter cold anger making him numb. He heard Takara let out a sob when he turned his back to her and began to take long, determined strides. _

_"Aoshi!" she called, her voice strained with weeping._

_He stopped. "Do not call me that," he said without looking at her. "I am your okashira. You will address me by my proper title."_

_He left her, crying on the dark southern walls of Edo castle, trying to convince himself that he had not left part of his heart behind him in her small white hands. _

i-i-i

"Where are my kodachi?"

Kenshin paused in the doorway of his room. Aoshi stood, pale and grim faced, his fists clenched at his sides, as if struggling to stay standing.

"You are feeling well?" Kenshin asked as he slowly closed the door behind him.

"I'm going back," Aoshi said shortly, not answering his question. His red-rimmed eyes were hard, lit with pain and desperation. And anger.

Kenshin was quiet for a moment. How many times had his eyes burned the same way Aoshi's did now?

"Misao-dono needs you, that she does," he said finally, leaning over to straighten his tousled futon.

He felt Aoshi's stare and he looked up.

"Do you think me foolish?" Aoshi asked the question softly, his head bent, his face clouded with distress, his stony mask disappearing for a moment.

Kenshin straightened, meeting the other man's eyes squarely. "This one does not think it is foolish to save the ones you love," he said in a firm voice. "No matter what the cost is."

Aoshi slowly nodded and looked away.

"Your kodachi are in the training room," Kenshin said, turning towards the door. He quietly slipped outside and made his way towards the fields, hoping that sword practice would ease the troubled feeling in his heart.

i-i-i

"He left you behind."

Misao groggily opened her swollen eyes, wincing in the light that shone through the window. Takara sat beside her, leaning against the stone wall, her arms wrapped around her knees.

"What?" Misao rasped. She lay huddled in the corner, her arms gathered around her, her whole leg feeling as if it were on fire.

Takara sighed softly and looked at the ground, her eyes tinged with sadness. "We have both made a mistake, Makimachi Misao," she said, her voice quiet. "We have both loved a man who has never loved us back. We give our hearts so willingly, only to have them rejected and forgotten, shattered on the ground like broken glass." She paused for a moment, staring at the wall, her face distant.

Misao blinked the heaviness from her vision as she sat up straighter. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said bitterly, her voice growing stronger.

"Tell me, is there a man you love?"

Misao was taken aback for a moment. "Yes," she said slowly.

"And does he love you in return?"

Misao was quiet. "Yes," she said, her voice soft with uncertainty.

"Has he told you this? Has he ever shown that he loves you?"

Misao turned her head away, refusing to let her tormenter see the tears now in her own eyes.

"As I said," Takara said quietly. "We have both made the same mistake, Misao. Both of us have loved Shinomori Aoshi."


End file.
